The Life and Times of Margaret DewittBukater
by Scarlett Sophie
Summary: This is the story as seen through the eyes of Margaret DewittBukater, Rose's sister. I know it's a bit unoriginal as a plot, but I believe that once you read it you'll like it. Margaret is a very loveable character, and she adds a new layer to the charact
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

The ship loomed high above us. I stepped out of the car after Rose, and I drew in a breath, amazed by the sight of it.

"I don't see what all the fuss is about; it doesn't look any bigger than the Mauritania," Rose said, her mouth set. I knew she was just trying to annoy Cal, who seemed to be as proud of the ship as if he had been the one who had built it.

"Rose, don't be silly," I argued. "It's much bigger than the Mauritania, and if what Cal says is true, it's bound to be much nicer."

"Nicer than the Mauritania? I doubt it," Rose said, and walked off a distance. My first impulse was to follow her, but I stifled it, forcing myself to remain behind as Cal helped Mother out of the car and paid a man to take care of the bags.

"Come along, Margaret," my mother called imperiously, following Cal. I followed without question, it being my objective in life to anger my mother as little as possible, except when it was absolutely necessary. Because of this, it was widely known that I was by far my mother's favorite, and Rose, unlike other children, had always been glad of this, because it allowed her to have some distance between her and our meddlesome mother.

I stared up at the ship as we walked up the gangplank that would lead us to our first-class suite of rooms. Rose led the way, her expression serious, and I could only speculate as to what she was thinking. But I tried to forget about her, at least for the time being, and marvel at the magnificence of the Titanic.

"Rose, this way," I called, as she stopped and stared at the marvelous inlaid carvings. She colored slightly and hastened her steps so that she caught up with us. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" I asked, trying to make conversation. But Rose simply nodded her head and continued to stare.

We had a suite of four rooms, all of them connected and complete with a shared sitting room and private promenade deck. I chose the room next to Rose's, and Cal was given the other one next to the Rose's. I hastened to unpack my things, eager to change out of the hideous green frock Mother had forced me to don that morning. I was assisted by my maid, Charlotte, who had followed us around the world for the last five years of my life. I considered her a close friend, and often told her secrets I did not wish anyone else to know.

"Where do you want this to go, Miss Margaret?" she asked, holding up a painting of a bridge. I pointed to the space of empty wall over the nightstand. She obediently hung it up as I continued hanging up dresses in the armoire.

"What do you think of this dress, Charlotte?" I asked, holding up a pale blue dress with a pink sash and lace at the neck and sleeves. I thought to wear it to lunch that day.

"It's very nice, Miss Margaret," Charlotte agreed. I had long ago instructed her to be perfectly honest with me, and I knew that she was being truthful. She was one of the few people I knew who were not afraid to tell me that a dress I owned was hideous, and I appreciated it.

I laid the dress out on my bed, ready to wear.

"Margaret, I'm going up on deck. Do you want to come?" Rose asked. She had finished packing, and had taken off the jacket that matched the skirt she wore.

"Yes, of course. But I want to first change out of this wretched thing," I said, tugging at the velvet skirt. Rose laughed and nodded.

"Alright, come to my room when you're done," she instructed.

Charlotte abandoned the unpacking that she had been doing and helped me out of the green dress. She then tightened my corset and helped me into my dress of choice.

"Hang up that green thing at the very back of my closet, if you please," I instructed as I let down a part of my hair and pinched my cheeks to add more color. I stood up straight and observed my reflection in the mirror. "How do I look, Charlotte?"

"Beautiful, Miss Margaret," Charlotte said, and handed me a straw hat with blue ribbons trailing out behind it. She also fished out some lace gloves from the bottom of my trunk, as well as a pale blue shawl that matched my dress. "You might want to hang on to your hat, Miss Margaret. I've been told it's quite windy up on deck."

I thanked her and went into Rose's room. She had dressed in a pink dress that matched mine, and laughed when she saw me.

"We do think alike, don't we?" she asked, grabbing a shawl exactly like mine.

It was quite windy up on deck, just as Charlotte had warned. I clung to my hat with one hand, while my other was linked through Rose's. I suddenly let go of Rose's arm and clutched at the railing, surprised and a little scared by the speed we were going. Occasionally water splashed up on us, and when this happened we laughed and thought of what Mother would say.

I looked around me, and noted that most of the people were from third class. That didn't bother me, but I smiled, thinking about how shocked Mother would be if she knew we were mingling with the common folk.

Looking back at Rose, I noticed that her expression was happier that it had been in days. Her cheeks were slightly flushed from the wind, and her hair was flying wildly out behind her. I had to admit, she looked beautiful, and I was not at a loss to wonder why Cal would marry her even though he knew she had no dowry to offer him.

"Margaret, isn't it wonderful up here?" she asked, throwing her arms wide to indicate the ship. I laughed and nodded.

"Yes, it is," I whispered. I knew then, though I wouldn't admit it to myself, that this was where Rose belonged, and not in some fancy mansion that Cal built for her, or even Mother's country home, which had been in such disrepair since Father died. She belonged at sea, on the Titanic.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

We came running back into our rooms when we realized how late it was. Our mother was in Rose's room, frowning in that way she has when she's far past anger, dressed for lunch. She took one look at our semi-disheveled appearances and knew we had been up to something she wouldn't approve of.

"Go change, Margaret," she told me in an icy tone. "I wish to speak with your sister alone."

I obeyed, pausing in the doorway to glance pityingly at Rose. Then I closed the door and began to dress myself for lunch.

I dressed in a lilac dress with lace at the collar, then went over to my vanity and hastily brushed my hair, taking a second to take in my reflection.

I was three years younger than Rose, so I lacked the worldly look in my eyes that Rose had long-since acquired. I also lacked the rebelliously-set mouth, but I did have the same blue eyes as my sister. What I did not have was her gorgeous flaming hair, so curly and untamed, just like Rose. I had sandy-blonde hair, incredibly straight, except on rare occasions, when the ends would sometimes curl. And as for my face, mine was much more docile than Rose's, making it much more boring, but Mother was constantly telling me that I was beautiful, something I didn't feel. Rose was the beautiful one in the family, but Mother would never admit it, knowing Rose would use this small affection against her one day.

Dressed, I carefully pressed my ear to the door that separated me from Rose's room. I had been brought up in the knowledge that eavesdropping was something young ladies did not do, but in the last year of my life, Rose taught me otherwise. I had been using this skill more and more as the date of her wedding approached, but it wasn't until later that I noticed this.

"Rose, you have to stop acting like this. You know the situation we're in. You know how desperately we need you to marry Cal. And you won't be able to marry him if you keep acting like some heathen who belongs in steerage! And why must you bring your sister into this? Margaret is the child you should be, and you would do well to remember this in these final days before your wedding!" I heard my mother saying.

"Mother, I didn't make Margaret do anything. She wanted to come up on deck herself. And we didn't do anything inappropriate, as I have already said, we were simply standing and the wind tangled our hair," Rose said defensively, in such a tone that I knew she was getting tired of repeating herself.

"Be that as it may, Rose," Mother said. She paused, and I was sure she was looking at the clock in Rose's room, trying to decide whether to go to lunch and lecture Rose later, or do the opposite. "Fetch your sister, we're going to be late, and even if you're willing to risk becoming a social outcast, I'm not."

I stepped away from the door just as Rose yanked it open. Everything in her face said that she was furious, but when she saw me so close to the door she grinned, and all the anger and frustration fell away.

"Come, Margaret, we're late for lunch," she said, still grinning.

I followed her and our mother out into the deserted hallway, and I felt a twinge of guilt for making us late. But, I reasoned in my head, it wasn't my fault, we would have been on time if Mother hadn't decided to needlessly lecture Rose on the way she should be acting.

Cal was already seated at a table with some other first-class passengers, all of their faces unfamiliar to me. He rose when he saw us, and drew away a chair first for my mother, then me. He paused at Rose's chair, angrily noticing how she had seated herself. I glanced quickly at her before Cal sat down between us and blocked my view of her, and noted that the rebellious expression she wore ever more frequently had returned.

"May I introduce my fiancée, Rose DeWitt Bukator, her mother, Ruth DeWitt Bukator, and sister, Margaret," Cal said, motioning to each of us in turn. I smiled at those around me, and they seemed pleased with me, though many of the women stared disapprovingly at Rose, who still seemed to be rebelling.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," a fat woman with silver hair and too much jewelry said. "Your husband was one of the kindest men I've ever known, it's a pity he passed away."

"Thank you for your concern," Mother answered, a response I had heard and given so many times over the past few months that it was permanently inscribed on my mind. "Our family will never quite recover from the loss, I am sure."

"How old are you, Margaret?" someone asked me. I turned, to see that the speaker was a middle-aged man who was balding, and had a slick mustache that curled up at the ends.

"Sixteen, sir," I replied, as politely as I could, not quite sure why my age should interest him.

"Just the age of my son, James! Unfortunately, he is indisposed at the moment, as he is dining with the Captain and Mr. Andrews, the man who designed this fabulous ship," the man said. I smiled and nodded. I hated it when people got the idea that I would like making the acquaintance of their sons.

"It would be my pleasure, sir," I said, the formal response taught me by my mother. Rose glanced at me, and smiled slightly, sensing the lie in my tone.

"You must be very excited about your upcoming wedding," a woman, who I believe was called Mrs. Robinson, asked Rose. The latter smiled falsely at her, putting on her "society mask," as we sometimes called them.

"Yes, ma'am, I'm very excited," Rose said in as pleasant a tone as she could muster. I noted how my mother was nervously clasping in the napkin in her hand, eyeing Rose as she spoke, hoping she would not purposely embarrass herself.

"Of course you are, Caledon is a fine man," Mr. Robinson said, puffing his chest out as if Cal was his own son. Cal smiled at the compliment, never displeased with anyone who boasted about him.

"Yes, he certainly is," Rose said quietly, looking down at the table as she spoke so that I knew that she didn't mean it.

"You are to be her bridesmaid, are you not?" Mrs. Robinson asked of me. The lady seemed to have an obsession with weddings.

"Yes, ma'am," I said.

The food arrived, and I was grateful for that, because it distracted them and made them talk about the elegance of the new ship. The men began to argue about the design of it, and the women were silent, pretending to listen intently. I picked at my food, not as hungry as I should be. My mother glared at me as I did so, not expecting to have to lecture me later about my conduct. That concerned Rose, not me. But I had no appetite. I was bored by all the niceties and fake smiles, all the unspoken rules of society that one had to follow, and for the first time in my life I began to understand just why Rose acted the way she did. Usually I told myself she did so because she liked to attract attention and annoy Mother, but now I knew there was more to the story.

"Gentlemen, shall we retire to the lounge?" an elderly gentleman asked. They all rose, and we were left behind.

"Rose, Margaret, come along, I suppose you are feeling tired after the exertions of unpacking," Mother said, standing and expecting us to do the same. I rose, always the obedient daughter, but Rose remained seated, staring out the window at the sea. "Rose!" my mother hissed, and Rose turned her head, a quizzical look on her face.

"Come on, Rose," I said quietly, and she rose and followed us out of the dining saloon, back to our rooms.

"I never expected to see you two behave so horribly in public," Mother chided us when we were safe in the privacy of our own suite. "I hope I never have to reprimand you again, Margaret. Clearly your sister has had a negative effect on you, and one which I fully intend to speak to her about. You may leave now, Margaret. Go rest, we will have a long night."

"No, Mother. It wasn't Rose's fault I didn't enjoy being in such company. It's your fault, for forcing us to act. I don't want to wear a mask of falseness and fake joy. I want to be free, and I want to be able to sit at a table and speak without first being spoken to. I want to dress the way I please, and speak my mind. I'm tired of society, I'm tired of all the games. I'm just tired, Mother."

She stared at me in shock for a moment. I thought she would faint. Surely she thought it was all a nightmare, thought she would wake up soon and it would all be over. But it was real, and now she had two rebellious daughters on her hands.

She looked pleadingly at Rose, hoping she would be able to talk some sense into me, the last obedient daughter left. But Rose was grinning, looking at me with sisterly pride plainly visible on her face.

"I'm going to pretend I never heard that, Margaret. I am going to lie down, I am beginning to feel ill. I only hope that when I wake up, you will also be feeling more like yourself. Both of you."

She left, and Rose and I remained where we were.

"I'm sorry I got you in trouble," I said finally. "But I finally see it your way, Rose. I hate those people. They're such hypocrites, and the only thing they ever think about is furthering their own agendas. How I could ever have thought that any of them were my friends!"

Rose laughed, genuinely happy for the first time in months.

"I'm glad you see it now," she said. "I only hope that now you are not totally biased against them, for some of those people are truly quite kind."

"I won't be, Rose," I promised. "Just so long as you help me to distinguish the bad ones from the kind ones."

She smiled and I knew that this had opened a new door in our relationship, one previously locked because of my unquestioning obedience. But now that my eyes had been opened, the door had opened too, and I knew that even if Rose did marry Cal and moved far away from me, she would never be as far away as she had been in the past few years.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The next day we spent on the promenade deck, where Rose taught me how to draw. She was not the most talented artist, but she was a fair one and much more so than me.

"No, not like that, like this," she said, taking the pencil from my hand and redrawing the line. I laughed.

"I'll never understand art," I complained. "You have such a knack for it, and I have not. I much prefer books and literature."

"Don't worry, you'll understand soon enough. All you need is practice. After all, anyone can be an artist if they try hard enough," Rose comforted, drawing a few more lines on my sketch and making the water actually appear to be water.

"I'm bored, Rose, let's take a walk around the deck," I suggested.

Realizing she had lost the attention of her pupil, Rose agreed and put away the papers we had been drawing on.

"Do you really want to marry Cal?" I asked.

Rose remained quiet for a long moment, and I imagined that she hadn't heard the question.

"No, but it means so much to Mother that I do," she said, just as I opened my mouth to ask the question again. "And Cal may be crude, but I'm sure he has his good points. I'm sure I could grow to love him eventually."

I rolled my eyes. Since I was the youngest, I had more time to dream about marriage, and I thought it should be done only for love, not for profit or revenge, or any of the other possible motives for marriage. But Rose was older, and my mother had had more time to teach her about the rules of society, and the sacrifices one is often forced to make for one's family. I often regretted Rose's fate, because though she was the more rebellious one, even she didn't dare to rebel quite so much against our mother's teachings.

"Rose, that's stupid," I said. "This isn't the Middle Ages, you shouldn't do this. You know you'll never be able to love Cal if you don't love him already."

Rose was quiet, absorbing my words.

"What do you want me to do, Margaret? As Mother says, the money is gone. We have nothing. If I don't marry Cal, we'll all end up in a poorhouse," she said finally.

"I don't care! I could survive in a poorhouse, I think. As long as you're not suffering in the same way you are now, I'd be happy," I argued. Since I had become Rose's friend and confidante, I had learned to be more argumentative and stubborn, just as she was. She joked that it was a trait hidden beneath years of training and false attitudes.

Rose laughed at what I said, shaking her head sadly.

"If only that were true, Margaret. But I doubt that even you have that kind of courage. Nevertheless, I appreciate the thought."

That night a woman came on who became one of the few society friends I had on the Titanic: Molly Brown. She was "new money" according to Mother, who greatly disapproved of her. And though we didn't go out of our way to speak with her, Rose and I both enjoyed her company as well as her free spirit and sharp-witted tongue.

That night, when we were preparing for bed and as Rose was brushing my hair for me, we talked about Molly. We laughed at the expression on Mother's face when she chose to sit by us at dinner.

"She looked positively disgusted," I said.

"Like she was about to be seasick," Rose added.

It felt like we were actually sisters. Ever since I had turned six and I had begun to be instructed in the ways of society by my mother, Rose and I had begun to grow apart. She disapproved of the way I followed Mother's every order, and I disapproved of the way she constantly sought out trouble and danger. And when our father died, Rose withdrew even further from me, probably because she thought I couldn't relate, never having been as close to him as she. But Titanic had brought us together, and I was grateful for that.

"Cal too, did you see?" I asked. "Especially when she started talking to you about your plans for the future."

Though I thought Rose would laugh at that, she didn't, and as I looked at her face in the mirror, she seemed distant, withdrawn, sad. I knew she didn't want to marry Cal any more than I wanted her to, but she, unlike I, had a sense of duty towards family that I had never had.

"Rose, are you alright?" I asked unnecessarily. She forced a smile and nodded, then continued to brush my hair as if nothing had happened. "The Robinsons want me to meet their son tomorrow morning. He'll probably be hideous and stupid, just like the rest of them. Any man who requires his parents to get him a fiancée is probably weak-minded or something."

Rose laughed at that, and I smiled, glad to see that the change of subject had changed her mood.

"Don't worry too much about it; I'm sure Mother doesn't expect you to marry him. The Robinsons may be rich, but they are not nearly as rich as Cal, and she wants you to marry into as much money as possible. And if you do like him, you can always marry him just to annoy Mother," Rose said. We both laughed, knowing I would never do that.

"Will you come with me, Rose? Please?"

She stopped brushing my hair for a moment, and I turned to look at her. She smiled, and I knew I had made her happy.

"Of course, if you really want me to," she said. I smiled.

"Of course I do, I wouldn't have asked if I hadn't meant it," I said seriously, and hugged her. It felt like we were little children again.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The next morning Charlotte woke me up early, at Rose's request. Rose had already selected something for me to wear, a sapphire-colored dress with a relatively low neckline, complete with lace and a white sash. She had even instructed Charlotte how to do my hair, and when I left my room that morning I looked like a princess.

"You look beautiful," Rose said as we went to the promenade deck for my meeting. I laughed.

"You're only saying that to be nice," I retorted. "Everyone knows I'll never be half as beautiful as you."

The Robinsons were sitting in chairs by the railing, conversing with another young man handsomely attired, who didn't have a bad face, either. He had dark hair and blue eyes that shone with intelligence, and there was none of the high-society airs about him, such as Cal possessed. The three of them looked up when we arrived, Mrs. Robinson smiling expectantly.

"This is Rose and Margaret DeWitt-Bukator. Margaret, this is my son James," Mr. Robinson said imperiously. I glanced at Rose, who was smiling. I took it she didn't think James was bad-looking, either.

"Enchanted," James said, taking my hand and kissing it. "So you are the infamous Miss DeWitt-Bukator my mother has spoken of so often?"

I smiled and blushed.

"I should say so, though I don't know if that is a compliment or a criticism," I admitted.

"Miss Margaret, would you mind if we took a stroll about the deck?"

I looked at Rose, who nodded.

"Not at all, Mr. Robinson. In fact, I look forward to it," I said, taking the arm he offered me.

"They seem to like each other," I heard Mrs. Robinson tell her husband as we walked off.

"Thank God, now I can dispense with the fancy language," James said once we rounded the corner. I laughed.

"I know exactly what you mean," I agreed. "So, where are you going on this grand Ship of Dreams?"

"New York. My grandparents live there, and unfortunately my mother hopes my grandmother might know of some eligible young ladies for me to marry," James told me.

"I have a similar predicament. My sister Rose is getting married, and we're going back to Philadelphia for the wedding."

James raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"And who, may I ask, is the lucky husband?"

"Caledon Hockley," I said, choking back an "unfortunately".

"I don't much like him. We met in the men's lounge, he's very proud. His pride is about all he has. I would hate to think of what might become of him if he lost his pride," James mused.

"I have often asked myself the same question," I said before I could stop myself.

"Do you like the Titanic?" he asked, abruptly changing the subject.

"It's very nice, though it is a bit lacking. I much prefer land," I said. "Not only is it sturdier, but you can hide from unlovable people." James laughed. "It's true!" I said defensively, slightly hurt by his reaction.

"I know it is, that's why I'm laughing," he explained.

"The gentlemen seem to be proud of it, though. Almost as if they'd built it themselves," I commented.

James said nothing in response, and I was beginning to feel uncomfortable when he spoke.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

I stopped and stared at him, taken by surprise. It was not a question I was usually asked, indeed one I had not been asked in years. Rose and I used to play that game, imagining what fabulous things we would do with our lives. I had wanted to be in the circus, and Rose had once wanted to be an actress. Things had turned out so very differently than we had once hoped they would.

"I'm not sure," I said, blushing.

"How can you not be sure? You must have stayed up some night, unable to sleep, and thought about your future. Even now, you must be wondering how far our relationship will go. I am simply asking what you would want to be when you are older, if any profession at all were allowed."

I turned and walked to the railing, leaning on it and staring straight out to sea. I had never thought of it lately, and now that the question was once again asked of me, I was unsure of what to say.

"I suppose I would want to be a great writer," I said. "Writers can say anything they want, dream anything they want, and write it all down on paper. And millions of people would read their words and be touched by them, take them to heart and keep them there for years, taking them out whenever they were needed. Such a profession is magical, and those who have the opportunity to be a writer always take advantage of it, and never savor it."

He looked out to sea, and I watched him for a moment, watching as the emotions ran across his face as he thought about what I had said.

"That's profound. I never thought I would ever meet a society girl with such deep thoughts." I laughed.

"And yourself? What do you want to be when you grow up?"

"I hope to be a lawyer, but I doubt my parents would approve. They think that such a profession is for middle-class people, and that I shouldn't lower my position by involving myself in such a trade. My father wants me to continue his lumber business, but I don't want to. I don't want to be the fifth generation in the lumber business. It's boring, and though it may bring in money, it doesn't bring glory, or fame. And it doesn't make you feel accomplished. You can't save a person's life by selling lumber."

"Yes, you can. Imagine you sell lumber at an affordable price to a family who has just lost everything in a fire. Don't you think they'll be grateful? You've just returned their dream to them. There is an opportunity to do good in everything. It's what you do with this opportunity that matters," I said, reproaching him.

He studied me for a moment, then offered me his arm and we started walking again.

"I've never met a girl with such interesting views before. Where did you learn all this?" he asked. I shrugged.

"My mother forbids me to read literature that puts ideas in my head. She thinks I'll end up as stubborn and troublesome as my sister. But often I borrow books from Rose and read them late at night. I'm fascinated by the Enlightenment thinkers. They think of everything which was beforehand forbidden them to think. A bit like myself, really," I confessed. He laughed.

"You are hardly what a lady should be, you know that?" he teased.

"And yet I don't care. Say what you will about me, Mr. Robinson, I care little about your criticisms," I said imperiously, holding my head high. He laughed.

"It wasn't a criticism, it was a compliment. I like that you're not a lady. You make me think, and laugh. You're the first girl my mother introduced me to who hasn't put me to sleep with her conversations already approved of by her mother," James said, staring at me as he spoke in a way that made me feel uncomfortable, but pleasantly so.

"Thank you," I whispered, touched by the compliment. It was the first compliment I had ever received that truly delved into my very nature, one that was a much milder version of Rose's, yet still turbulent but controlled by years of training at the hands of my mother.

We had arrived back at our point of origin, and our respective family members were staring at us, eyes wide with curiosity. Looking at Mrs. Robinson, I thought she would faint from excitement and anticipation.

"Would you mind, Miss Margaret, if I asked you a rather forward question?" James asked, resuming his manners.

"Not at all, Mr. Robinson, you may be quite frank with me if it so pleases you," I said, resuming my own manners. It wouldn't do to have Mrs. Robinson telling my mother of my over-familiarity with her son.

"May I escort you to dinner tonight?"

I flushed but smiled, happy for once to be asked to be escorted.

"You may, Mr. Robinson. I am quite flattered by your request," I said, the polite answer I had been taught when I reached the age to be presented to society. "And now, if you don't mind, my sister and I must take our leave, though we regret it terribly. I confess that I have rather enjoyed your company, Mr. Robinson."

And with that, Rose and I left to return to our rooms to rest a while before lunch.

"Well?"

"He's perfect, Rose! He's handsome, you must admit, but he thinks just like me! He is far from being the type of suitor Mother would approve of, but he has some station, which I am sure would endear him to her. Oh, Rose, isn't it heavenly? He's the nicest, most perfect man I've ever met, and I'm quite sure he feels the same about me!"

We giggled together like little schoolgirls, and though Rose seemed genuinely happy for me, I knew there was sadness lurking behind her blue eyes, though why I wasn't quite sure. I didn't ask her about it, though, not wanting her to freeze me out the way she had the night before, and we continued to speak of James, Rose making me describe our entire conversation in detail. I knew she enjoyed hearing me speak of my own happiness, but I could tell that she herself derived only sadness from my tale.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

We changed for lunch, Rose wearing a gorgeous green dress with a red sash, while I wore a white gown with a pale blue sash. We ate with Mr. Andrews, the man who had designed the Titanic, Mr. Ismay, who had had the idea for the ship, Molly Brown, Mother, and Cal. Molly Brown was quiet, listening intently to what the other people had to say, a small smile displayed on her lips, which grew wider the longer Mr. Ismay talked. The man seemed so proud of Titanic, it was as if he himself had built it, and I admired Mr. Andrews, who sat and patiently listened to Mr. Ismay boast about something he had had little part in building.

"She's the largest moving object ever made by the hand of man in all history." He boasted. "And our master ship builder, Mr. Andrews, designed her from the keel plates, up."

Everyone at the table turned to face Mr. Andrews, who seemed to suddenly awaken at all the attention.

"I may have knocked her together, but the idea was Mr. Ismay's. He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale, and so luxurious in its appointments, that its supremacy would never be challenged. And here she is, willed into solid reality."

I smiled at him, pleased by his poetic speech and slightly more modest speech. On my right, Mr. Ismay's order was being taken by the waiter. I glanced at Rose, who had decided to light a cigarette. The rebellious look had returned to her eyes, and I wondered if her behavior might have anything to do with her reaction to my tale that morning.

"You know I don't like that, Rose," Mother said in a quiet voice, but one that I could hear from two seats down. Rose blew the smoke in her face in a very audacious manner, and even I couldn't believe how far Rose had gone this time. My stomach clenched itself, and I wasn't sure whether Mother would make a public scene in order to make Rose obey her, or if she would let it pass in order to make as little a scene as possible. She let it pass, and Rose continued to smoke her cigarette.

To my surprise, Cal reached out and took the cigarette from the holder and put it out, giving Rose a 'Listen to your mother' look. I didn't react, though I desperately wanted to roll my eyes, and gave my order to the waiter.

"And you, sir?" the waiter asked Cal.

"We'll both have the lamb, rare, with very little mint sauce," Cal told the waiter, glancing at Rose. "You like lamb, right sweet-pea?"

Rose gave him a sarcastic smile, and I could tell that something was definitely wrong. She only acted like this if she was under stress or emotionally strained.

"So are you going to cut her meat for her there, too, Cal?" Molly Brown asked, leaning forward in her seat. Her eyes danced with the same excitement with which Rose's did when she was happy, the way she had been this morning on the deck. Cal did not bother to answer her question, and so Molly quickly changed the subject. "Hey, who came up with the name Titanic? Was it you, Bruce?"

"Well, yes actually. I wanted to convey shear size, and size means stability, luxury, and above all, strength," replied Mr. Ismay, in the same boastful manner with which he had spoke moments earlier.

"Do you know of Dr Freud, Mr. Ismay?" asked Rose. From her tone I could tell that she meant war. "His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you."

I could hardly contain myself, and a giggle escaped me. Though Mother didn't notice me, she was so busy glaring in embarrassed horror at her oldest daughter.

"What has gotten into you?" my mother said in utter embarrassment.

Rose quickly excused herself from the table, and I watched her go, fighting my urge to run after her. I knew that if I did, Mother would be equally angry with me, and I knew there should always be one of us who could negotiate the situation.

"You must excuse her, she's very worried about her upcoming wedding. There have been so many problems with the bridesmaids' dresses and the flowers that she's hardly slept at all these past few weeks," my mother lied, trying to explain away the situation. And though Molly and Mr. Andrews were still smiling, all accepted the explanation and pretended as if nothing had happened.

A few moments later our food arrived, and Cal excused himself so that he could fetch Rose. I watched him go, wondering what he would say to her, and hoping that it wouldn't make things even worse than they were already. I knew that when Rose got like this, she could be very touchy, especially about the small things.

That evening we dressed elegantly for dinner, Rose wearing one of the new dresses Cal had bought for her in London, while I wore a red dress with beads sewn in an intricate pattern about the collar. I felt very grown-up, for it was the first time Mother let me wear anything darker than blue to dinner, and I was careful in my selection of jewelry and hairstyle. But Rose did not share my excitement, not even when I reminded her that James was my escort tonight.

James arrived at our rooms early, knocking politely and waiting for Charlotte to open the door. When he was told that I wasn't ready, he accepted being led into the sitting room, where he waited until I made my appearance ten minutes later, feeling like a queen. Mother even let me wear my hair up.

"Wow," he said, looking me over. He all but let his mouth drop. I giggled.

"I take it I look nice?" I asked, offering him my hand. He kissed it.

"More than nice, I would say," he said. Recovering himself, he asked, "And where are the rest of your family?"

"Rose is just about ready, and Mother will be along shortly. And Cal is already downstairs, he's been in the men's lounge all afternoon," I explained. James nodded.

My mother appeared, dressed in a dark green dress and looking very serious and angered, more than I had seen her in years.

"Mother, this is James Robinson. You remember his parents?"

"Yes, I remember. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Robinson," she said, holding out her hand for him to kiss.

Rose appeared then, looking beautiful despite her sour mood, and I could tell that James was impressed.

"I thought you were my escort," I whispered in his ear, and he smiled, catching himself.

"I am," he said. "And anyway, she's engaged."

I pretended to be insulted, and he laughed, making my mother turn around to eye me. She was such an old-fashioned person; even the least bit of laughter between friends of opposite genders could make her frown. I quickly rectified my face, but James kept his smile, not knowing the way Mother's mind worked.

"Rose, darling," Cal greeted her, taking her arm as she took the last step down from the Grand Staircase. I glanced at James, and we both giggled.

"Cal, I believe you've met Mr. Robinson," I said, introducing them.

"Yes, I have, and a finer businessman I've never seen," Cal said, a bit too politely. His smile was too big for him to be telling the truth. I resisted glaring.

"Thank you, Mr. Hockley," James answered automatically.

"Shall we?"

We followed Cal to our table, where many of the richer first-class passengers were seated, including J.J. Astor and his wife, Madeline, Mr. Guggenheim, and once again, Molly Brown. I noted the way my mother glared at her, hating her modern ways and her "new money". I knew she couldn't stand Molly, especially the way she continually hung about her and her friends, the rich women with "old names" and "old money".

Conversation ranged from a series of various topics already discussed, and though I spoke little, I did speak. And Mother didn't glare at me, for which I was grateful. James spoke a lot, though, and each time he spoke I listened carefully, for what he had to say was often of interest. Rose didn't speak at all, and though she ate all her food, the rebellious look on her face was replaced by something far beyond my comprehension, something I couldn't quite place.

"Well, gentlemen, shall we retire to the lounge?" Colonel Gracie asked. All except James rose, and everyone looked at him. "Surely, Mr. Robinson, you do not wish to spend your time in the company of the ladies?" They all laughed, as this was an inconceivable thing to wish for.

"Not at all, Colonel Gracie. I just wanted to stay behind and ask Mrs. DeWitt-Bukator if I might take her daughter for a short walk up on deck," James answered coolly, not at all bothered by Colonel Gracie's comment.

"You may, Mr. Robinson. But please, return her to her rooms before it is too late," Mother said. I knew she loathed the idea, but she could not very well refuse.

James and I rose, and he offered me his arm.

"Do you want to go by your rooms to get your shawl? It's cold out," he offered.

"If I get cold, I'll be sure to tell you," I said, deliberately refusing. He smiled, and we reached the deck.

It was deserted, except for a lone third-class passenger, lying on a bench. We were careful not to disturb him, and walked around to the other side of the ship, and then up to the bow.

The wind whistled about us, enveloping us in it, drawing us in.

"I'm cold now," I whispered, and James wrapped his arms around me, in a demonstration of affection I had never received from any man before.

"Look up at the stars," James said, and I did so, sucking in my breath at the sight.

I had never been very far out from the city, never far from light, and now that night surrounded me, I felt squashed under a multitude of stars and things much larger and stronger than myself, than my control.

"When my brother died, I imagined that his soul had gone up to the stars. He's looking down on me right now, watches me no matter where I go or what I do," James said, his voice sad for the first time since I had met him. "See? There he is."

He pointed to a star winking brightly at us, and I smiled and waved at it. James laughed and did the same.

"I think I'll go up to the stars too one day," James continued. "At least I hope so."

"I'm sure you will," I crooned, burying my head in his chest.

A scream pierced the night, and we both turned our heads towards the stern of the ship, where the scream seemed to have come from. Another scream, and we ran, wondering what was wrong but sure it was urgent.

When we reached the stern, there was no one there except my sister, and the third-class passenger who lay on top of her.

"Rose…?" I asked, not sure what to say.

"What's all this?" The officer demanded, taking in the sight.

The master-at-arms was summoned, and the man, named Jack Dawson, was handcuffed. Cal was also summoned, and some of his friends from the men's lounge came with him. Even Mr. Lovejoy, Cal's bodyguard, came. And simply to gawk at Rose and the man who had supposedly assaulted her.

"This is completely unacceptable! What made you think you could put your hand on my fiancée?" Cal said, roughly pushing Mr. Dawson. "Look at me, you filth!"

Rose stood from the bench on which she had been seated, a blanket draped around her shoulders. She didn't look mutinous, the way she usually did when Cal started talking like that, but she certainly looked desperate.

"Cal!" she said, trying to get his attention, though not very effectively.

"What do you think you were doing?" Cal demanded, continuing to ignore Rose. I tried to step forward, to intervene, to do something, but James put a hand on my shoulder, steadying me, telling me not to get involved. It wasn't my fight.

"Cal, stop! It was an accident!" Rose said, raising her voice.

Cal turned to stare at her, obviously bewildered.

"An accident?"

"It was! Stupid really; I was leaning over and I slipped. I was leaning far over to see the uh, the uh, uh, the uh…" Rose continued, twirling her fingers in circles to indicate the propellers, lying through her teeth. She had obviously been through something that had made her thoughts very jumbled, because usually Rose was the coolest of liars.

"The propellers," Cal said, finishing her sentence for her.

"The propellers! And I slipped. And I would have gone overboard, but Mr. Dawson here saved me, and almost went over himself," Rose finished.

"She…She wanted to see the propellers," Cal repeated, as if he was still trying to register Rose's story. He laughed, a dazed sort of laugh, and I knew the young man was safe.

"Like I said, women and machinery do not mix," Colonel Gracie said, in a tone that clearly said, 'my word is law, do not dispute it.'

"Was that the way of it?" the master-at-arms demanded of Mr. Dawson.

He hesitated a moment, and my stomach clenched in a knot, sure he would call Rose's bluff.

"Yeah. Yeah, that was pretty much it," he agreed finally.

"Well, the boy's a hero then. Good for you sir, well done. So, if all is well, back to our brandy, ay!"

I was grateful for Colonel Gracie's welcome invitation, and Rose was, too. The men turned to go back inside, and Cal put his arm around Rose, readying himself to leave, too.

"Of course. Mr. Lovejoy, I think a twenty should do it," he said.

"Is that the going rate for saving the woman you love?" Rose demanded, and I breathed a quiet sigh of relief, glad to see that she had got her spirit back.

"Rose is displeased. What to do? I know." Cal said, with an idea on his mind, and he walked back to Jack. "Perhaps you could join us for dinner tomorrow evening, to regale our group with your heroic tale."

Mr. Dawson seemed skeptical, and took a long look at Rose before he finally agreed.

"Good, settled then..."

Cal moved off to rejoin their group, taking Rose with him. I stayed behind with James, watching as Mr. Dawson and Mr. Lovejoy spoke, though I didn't hear what they said, and when Mr. Lovejoy moved away to rejoin his boss, I walked up to Mr. Dawson, who had gotten a cigarette from Lovejoy and was smoking it.

"I know my sister wasn't looking at the propellers," I said, forgetting about James, who was standing at a distance, obviously eager to leave and forget about what happened, just as Cal was. "I want to know what she was doing."

Mr. Dawson eyed me, taking in my clothes, my hair, even my shawl-less shoulders.

"She was going to jump," he said, as our eyes met. I gasped. I hadn't known that Rose was _that_ depressed.

"Thank you," I said, when my breath had returned. "I honestly don't know what I'd do without her. I owe you a great debt, Mr. Dawson."

He smiled and shook the hand I held out to him.

"You could start paying it back now by giving me your name," he said, blowing smoke out of his mouth. I blushed a little, feeling a bit indecent.

"Margaret DeWitt-Bukator," I said smoothly.

"It's nice to meet you, Margaret," he said. "And tell your sister thanks."

"I will," I said as I returned to James, who put an arm around me and led me back inside.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

The next morning I woke late. I had breakfast in my room and dressed, then went to find Rose, only to discover her missing. Just as I was deciding what to do with my day during her absence, there was a knock at my door, and I rushed to open it, hoping it was my sister.

"Good morning," James said, grinning when he saw me. "Might I request the pleasure of your company?"

"You may," I said, grabbing my shawl and walking out into the hallway to join him. "Where exactly is it you intend to take me?"

"It's a surprise, really," he said, taking my hand and leading me down the hallway. "So don't ask questions. You'll find out soon enough, I promise."

I laughed, but allowed myself to be led. We laughed enormously, and I found myself not at all surprised when I found myself in the cargo hold.

"It's nice and private here, don't you think?" he asked, putting a hand around my waist.

"Very," I whispered.

Our eyes met, and slowly, we both leaned in. Our lips met, and I felt the most wonderful sensation. When we parted, I smiled.

"Look, there's all this neat stuff down here," James said, blushing a little and attempting to distract me.

He walked over to a box and pulled the lid off. Inside was a phonograph. He turned it on, and music started blaring.

"Turn it off, James! Someone will hear!" I said, my careful nature overcoming me. But he grabbed me and started spinning me around, dancing.

"Come on, Maggie! It's fun! Listen to the music!"

I stopped fighting and started laughing, dancing with him. It was the first time I had danced to anything other than classical music, and I quite liked the random footsteps we invented to go along with the tune. We kept stepping on each other's feet, bumping into each other, trying to set a pace…

"Stop, stop," I said finally, slumping down in the driver's seat of the Rolls Royce. I gasped for breath. My face was all sweaty, and I knew I must have looked a fright.

James sat down next to me. He stared at me, with a look I had never seen on anyone's face before, and I couldn't name the emotion currently darting through his eyes. I looked away quickly, butterflies in my stomach, sensing that something wonderful was about to happen.

"Maggie, I know we haven't known each other for very long-"

_Two days, to be exact_, I thought, but I knew better than to interrupt him.

"But I've come to realize that I love you, and that I want to spend the rest of my life with you," James continued. My breath caught in my throat, and my eyes filled with water. "Margaret, will you marry me?"

"Yes!" I cried, and threw my arms about his neck. I kissed him, over and over, and I couldn't have been happier. I couldn't wait to tell Mother and Rose! Even Cal, I couldn't wait to tell everyone on the ship!

"I don't have a ring yet, but I plan to buy one as soon as we land. The prettiest one you ever did see, I promise," he said. "In the meantime, will you take this?"

Out of his pocket he pulled a necklace, a silver chain with a silver heart dangling from it. He handed it to me, and I stared at it, smiling, for that was all I could do at the moment.

"Thank you, James," I said finally. "I really don't know what to say."

"That's alright, I didn't either," he said, and helped me to get it on.

"I can't wait to land, to tell everyone I know. We're getting married!"

I hugged him again. I wished that I knew where Rose was, so that I could tell her right away.

There was the sound of a door opening, and a dirty, soot-covered face appeared behind a stack of boxes. We slid out of the seat and hid behind the car, slowly trying to make our way to the door before we were seen.

We made it, barely containing our laughter. The man had been going through boxes, stuffing valuables in his pockets. At least he hadn't seen us, for I was sure we would have given him a heart attack.

"Where would you like to go, now that our secret spot has been discovered?" James asked, offering me an arm.

We had arrived up on deck. I looked around, up at the sun shining high above us. What perfect weather. I glanced up at the first-class deck, and noticed a shock of red hair, and recognized Rose. She was walking with Jack Dawson, talking with him. I smiled. At least she had made a friend. I decided not to disturb her at the moment, to wait until later to tell her my good news.

I glanced at James, grinning.

"Surprise me," I instructed him.

He took me to the restaurant for lunch. We held hands when it was possible and laughed about how all of our mothers' friends stared at us, shocked by such an unnatural display of affection. I was sure that before dinner, my mother would hear about my conduct and reprimand me.

He ordered the best, but only what I liked, and asked me what I wanted. He was so unlike Cal, who just ordered Rose's meal and took her presence for granted. If we weren't poor, I was sure that she would have long ago run off on him.

We talked of many things, like literature and science, even religion. He thought that Buddhists have the right idea about religion, because theirs is about finding your inner self, not praying to a higher power to find it.

"If it weren't for Buddhism, there wouldn't be a religion for me. So I'd probably be atheist," he said, taking a sip of water.

"But don't you believe in God?" I questioned.

"Not really. I don't think there really is an all-powerful man living in the Heavens, staring down on us and judging our actions. I mean, when has there ever been proof that one exists?"

"That's precisely what religion is, James. It's faith. Faith is believing unquestionably in something, whether there is proof or not," I told him. He stared at me for a moment, his expression softening. "What?"

"You just look really beautiful when you're debating a subject with me," he said. I laughed.

"We weren't debating, we were expressing our individual views on the matter," I corrected. He laughed.

He was also critical of modern society. He said it was too hierarchal, and it was too much like the society in England that the Founding Fathers had meant to destroy in America. I agreed with that, and listened to him with interest, letting him further open my eyes to the things Rose had already taught me.

We spoke of families we knew, of friends we had in common, even those we wanted to invite to the wedding. I had no close friends besides Rose, and told him so frankly. He laughed and said he was sure that our mothers could lengthen the guest list considerably.

"I would like to have Charles Hancock as my best man," James said. "He was my best friend back in college, and though we haven't really seen each other since, he's the only person I've ever known who hasn't fallen into the pitfall of society. You'd like him, I'm sure."

When we had finished lunch, we retired to the promenade, sitting on a pair of chairs and watching the waves. We saw Rose and Jack pass once, and they stopped to talk for us to a moment. I refrained from telling Rose just then, seeing that she was having a good time with Jack and feeling loathe to distract her.

"I can't believe she's walking alone with him," James said when they were out of sight, lost in a crowd of passengers. I quickly spun my head to look at him.

"Why, because he has a third-class ticket?" I demanded, my voice reproachful. James laughed and shook his head.

"Not at all; it's because she's engaged. My, won't people be talking about her tonight. Cal'll have a hard time wiping that off his untarnished reputation."

I laughed, too, knowing that he was right. Cal would have a hard time, and I was sure that Rose would be in trouble with Mother tonight, too.

"Cal bothers me," I said after a moment of silence, each of us engaged in private thoughts.

"Why?" James asked. I looked at him. He seemed genuinely curious.

"He has such a snobby attitude. Just because his family owns millions, he thinks he's better than everyone, even Rose. He treats her like an object, like something he owns. It's horrible. And Rose doesn't say anything, because she knows that she needs to marry him," I explained passionately. I looked at James again and colored, feeling I had said too much. Such things were not meant to leave the family. And he wasn't family. Not yet.

"Does she love him?"

I hesitated this time, but seeing the kind, inquisitive look on his face, I knew he meant no harm. Besides, who was he going to tell?

"No, she despises him. She feels exactly the same as me on the matter."

"Then why is she marrying him?"

"I told you already, because she has to," I said simply, beginning to feel uncomfortable. I had crossed the invisible line Mother had drawn, the line that marked what was appropriate conversation and what was not.

"Why does she have to?" James pressed, apparently not as uncomfortable with the subject as I was.

"Because we need the money," I said finally, keeping my voice low as I spoke, not wanting to attract any more attention than I needed to. "When my father died, he left a lot of debts, and according to Mother, we're scrambling to pay them. Cal is a way out. He has millions to spare, and if he marries Rose, we'll have access to all of them. For Mother, it's a way out. It's a way to 'preserve our lifestyle,' in her words," I told him, in a disgusted tone.

I thought he would have been critical of me, would have taken back the engagement. But he merely looked pensive, and I was relieved, feeling an enormous weight lifting off my chest, knowing I could trust him entirely.

"That just proves my point about today's society," he said finally, and we both laughed.

The dinner bell rang, and we parted ways, heading to our respective suites to prepare. I decided to dress in my best, to impress James, and to make him feel like he had picked the right person. I smiled, humming to myself, things going perfectly. Even Rose was out of my thoughts.

I dressed in a black dress with red embroidery, and wore long black gloves. I wore my hair up, and though I wasn't allowed to wear rouge, Rose helped me to dab a little on my lips when Mother wasn't looking.

"You look lovely, Margaret," Mother commented as she patted her hair to smooth down a stray hair and smiling at her reflection in the mirror. "Is there a special occasion?"

"Yes, actually," I said quite calmly, keeping a straight face, "James and I are celebrating our engagement."

Both Rose and Mother stopped what they were doing, their faces going slack with shock. Rose recovered first, though, and laughed, rushing forward to hug and congratulate me. She pressed me for the story, and just as I started to give it, Mother interrupted.

"Margaret, are you sure? I mean, I'm sure you could find someone just as wealthy as Cal, with just as good a reputation-"

"No, Mother. I'm marrying James, whether you approve or not. We love each other, and we're getting married," I told her sternly. She closed her mouth and said nothing further. I suppose she was thinking that at least he wasn't third-class rabble, and that things could always be worse.

We went downstairs to dinner in a relative quiet, Rose still pressing me for more news. She didn't mention her afternoon with Jack Dawson, though, and I knew it was because Mother was with us. But I was sure I would get a chance to talk to her later tonight, when we had retired for the evening.

Cal and Jack met us, Cal offering my mother an arm, while Jack kissed Rose's hand. I giggled and winked at Rose, then moved off to find James, who was talking to Mr. Astor and his wife.

"J.J., how wonderful to see you," I said, shaking his hand and kissing Madeline on the cheek.

"I must say, Miss Margaret, you look lovelier every time I see you," Mr. Astor said, smiling pleasantly. I laughed.

"Has James told you our good news?" I asked, glancing at him quickly before I spoke.

"No, I can't say he has," Madeline said.

"We're engaged!" I announced. "Isn't it wonderful?"

"Congratulations, we're both very excited for you," J.J. said politely, smiling and shaking James' hand.

We spoke for a moment, and then they moved off to say hello to my sister and her escort. James grinned at me, and we went to join another group of people.

"This is fun," I whispered. "They seemed so shocked."

"Of course they were. You're expected to marry someone like Cal, aren't you? And I doubt you're supposed to be happy about it," James whispered back.

I barely contained my laughter.

By the time absolutely everyone knew about our engagement, it was time to be seated. We took our usual table with the usual guests, Molly Brown managing to get a seat with us, much to my mother's dismay. Rose sat across from Jack and next to Cal, while I sat between James and Cal, my usual place.

"Tell us of the accommodations in steerage, Mr. Dawson. I hear they're quite good on this ship," Mother said. I glared, shocked that she should say that, even though it was her.

"The best I've ever seen, ma'am: hardly any rats," Jack said in a light tone, but I could tell from his expression that he had taken offense.

"Mr. Dawson is joining us from Third Class. He was of some assistance to my fiancée last night," Cal explained to the table. As if there could be any doubt about where he was from, thanks to Mother's polite remark.

"It turns out Mr. Dawson is quite a fine artist. He was kind enough to show me some of his work today," Rose said, rushing to Jack's defense.

"Rose and I differ somewhat in our definition of fine art. Not to impugn your work, sir," Cal said. Jack made a gesture, showing that he took no offense.

"How do you take your caviar, sir?" the waiter asked, getting to Jack.

"No caviar for me thanks; never did like it much," Jack said in a pompous way, so that it looked like he was imitating Cal. Rose's face turned red as she tried to keep from laughing.

"On crackers, please," I told the waiter when he got to me.

"And where exactly do you live, Mr. Dawson?" Mother asked. I glared at her again, knowing exactly where she was going with this.

"Well, right now, my address is the RMS Titanic. After that, I'm on God's good humor," Jack said, just as pleasantly as before. It seemed as though nothing could faze him.

"And how is it you have means to travel?"

"I work my way from place to place, you know, on tramp steamers and such. But I won my ticket on Titanic in a lucky hand at poker. A very lucky hand."

"All life is a game of luck," said Colonel Gracie.

"A real man makes his own luck. Right, Dawson?" said Cal, looking over at Jack. I clenched my fist around my napkin, trying to keep myself from rolling my eyes at Cal's stupidity.

"And you find that sort of ruthless existence appealing, do you?" Mother questioned as politely as she could, though it was obvious that she was disgusted by him.

"Well, yes ma'am, I do. I mean, I've got everything I need right here with me. I've got the air in my lungs, and a few blank sheets of paper. I mean, I love waking up in the morning not knowing what's going to happen, or who I'm going to meet, or where I'm going to wind up. Just the other night I was sleeping under a bridge, and now, here I am, on the grandest ship in the world, drinking champagne with you fine people." Jack said, raising his glass as everyone laughed. "I figure life's a gift and I don't intend on wasting it. You never know which hand you're going to get dealt next. You learn to take life as it comes at you." Just then, Jack threw a box of matches for Cal who wanted to light a cigarette. "To make each day count."

"Well said, Jack," said Molly, as Colonel Gracie agreed.

"To making it count," said Rose, raising her glass, and everyone else at the table did the same. She was apparently just as touched by his speech as I was, and seemed to be looking ever more tenderly at Jack.

The evening continued, and I was glad when no more questions were directed at Mr. Dawson. He was quiet for the entire meal, occasionally smiling at Rose and causing Mother to elbow Rose to make her look away, but other than that was unremarkable.

The subject of our engagement was brought up, and that subject lasted awhile, everyone overly interested in our plans. Mr. Ismay asked us about where we planned to have the wedding, and when I told him that we hadn't discussed it yet, the whole table seemed to be affronted, except Rose, Jack, and Molly. I was quickly learning that Molly was someone I liked, who shared the same world views as me. I was even considering inviting her to the wedding.

"Ladies, thank you for the pleasure of your company," said Mr. Ismay, rising after the last dessert plate was taken away.

"Joining us Dawson? You don't want to stay out here with the women, do you?" asked Colonel Gracie jovially.

"No thanks, I've got to be heading back."

"Probably best," said Cal as he prepared to walk out, "all of that business and politics and that sort of thing wouldn't interest you." He said, winking, and turned around quickly to throw Jack's matches back to him. "It was good of you to come."

He offered to escort Rose back to her room, but she declined, and I turned my head, quickly telling James to come to my room when he was done.

"Jack, must you go?" Rose asked. Despair was evident in her tone.

"Time for me to go row with the other slaves. Goodnight Rose." He said, kissing her hand.

Rose looked queer for a second, then quickly composed her face before Mother could see. I noticed the note Jack had left in her hand, and noticed how she excused herself as soon as she had finished reading it. I smiled to myself. At least she had found love before she chained herself to Cal forever.

As soon as the rest of the ladies started leaving, I joined Mother on the way back to our rooms. She babbled on about having a double wedding with Rose, and about how wonderful it was that both her daughters were getting married at once.

_Liar,_ I thought,_ that's not what you said two hours ago. You're a filthy hypocritical liar, just like the rest of them. I'll be glad when I'm married, and don't have to see you every day._

Rose wasn't in her room, and though Mother was concerned, I wasn't. I knew she was with Jack, though I didn't say anything, knowing Mother would like the answer to her question much less than ignorance. I dressed for bed, and sat up reading for awhile, waiting for Rose to return, or for a knock on the door that would announce James. The knock came first.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

James left in the morning, just as Charlotte came in with my breakfast. She wasn't surprised to see him, and she even offered him breakfast. But he refused, and ran off, his shirttails hanging out of pants, telling his story.

Charlotte refrained from mentioning my midnight guest after that, knowing my mother could barge in on us at any time.

"Is Rose back?" I asked as I buttered a piece of toast.

"Yes, she came back about an hour after Mr. Robinson arrived. She went straight to bed, and she's still sleeping. Mr. Hockley's in a state about where she was last night. You see, Miss Margaret, he had Mr. Lovejoy follow her, and apparently she was at a party in Third Class, with that Mr. Dawson who saved her life two days ago," Charlotte told me, laying out my Sunday dress, a hideous black thing Mother had insisted I buy.

"No, not that one today, Charlotte. It's too ugly for words, and I want to look nice today," I told her. She understood, and put the dress back, going through my closet for something more acceptable. "Is Cal angrier than usual?"

"Yes, ma'am. Though by now he's managed to contain himself slightly. You should have seen him last night, though, when Mr. Lovejoy told him where she was. I was serving him tea. He practically exploded, and I swear that I heard your mother stirring in the other room. He probably woke the people in the other suites, too, that's how loud he screamed. It was horrible, he cursed so bad and told me to get out of sight or he'd fire me on the spot. I didn't need any prompting, let me tell you," Charlotte said, only too happy to tell her story.

"Wow, I can't think of one time I've seen Cal really angry. Even when Mr. Dawson supposedly raped Rose, he wasn't half as angry as he sounds when you describe it," I told her. "I don't think I'll ever be able to look at him in the same way again, Charlotte."

"You'd best watch your step around him from now on, Miss Margaret. He'll probably be watching you like a hawk, to make sure neither of you girls steps out of line again. After all, you will be his sister in a few weeks, and I'm sure he doesn't want either of you ruining his reputation. And he probably doesn't think Mr. Robinson is controlling enough of you," Charlotte said, pulling out a dark purple skirt and white blouse. "Will this do, Miss Margaret?"

"Yes, that's fine. Can you find a shawl or something to go with that, though? It seems lacking something," I told her. "I don't think it's any of Cal's concern how controlling James is of me. He's my fiancé, and he can take care of me however he pleases. And he's doing a fine job, if I may say so."

"Of course he is, Miss Margaret. A finer man I've never seen, I'm sure," Charlotte agreed, taking out a blue shawl and then hastily putting it back in its place.

"Margaret, are you up?" Mother demanded, coming through my door without even knocking.

"Well, if I was asleep, I doubt I'd be now," I told her, glaring. "Have you ever heard of knocking, Mother?"

She ignored me, and got straight to the point.

"Do you know where your sister was last night?"

"Yes," I said, not even bothering to tell her my source. I was sure she wouldn't care.

"Then why on earth didn't you tell me? You could have saved our family name! It's in shambles as it is, what with you getting engaged to that Robinson boy, and with the way Rose acted at lunch the other day… You're as much at fault as she is, Margaret! And don't say anything in your defense, I don't want to hear it. Just take this as a warning. I've never had any trouble with you before, Margaret, so I will overlook this lapse of judgment on your part just this once. But from now on, even the smallest thing will get you severely punished," she said, venom in her voice. I knew that Rose was in for it.

"Yes, Mother," I said, not wanting to cross her just yet. She was out for blood.

"Hurry and dress, or we'll be late for church. Mr. Lovejoy is going ahead to save seats for us near the front, but if we're too late his efforts will be for naught."

She left, leaving us in a stunned silence.

Rose was silent throughout the service, and I knew Mother had spoken to her. Mother was ignoring her, and Cal was more serious and snobby than usual, perhaps in an attempt to make himself feel better. But there was ice in our pew as Captain Smith read through the service, and I could hardly wait until it was over and I could get away from it all.

James was sitting across and two pews down from us, and though he winked at me, I barely managed to smile back. It was as if I was breaking the ice that lay about us, and an even thicker layer covered the pew because of my slightest expression of warmth.

I was glad when it was over and we went to lunch. But lunch was torture, too. Mother still wasn't speaking to Rose, who seemed to be heading once again into a depression. James held my hand under the table, and kept squeezing it, probably in an attempt to comfort me, sensing that something was wrong in my family.

When lunch was over, Mr. Andrews offered us a complete tour of the ship. Cal readily accepted, and Rose and I followed glumly. I promised to meet James on the deck as soon as it was over, and I kept that thought in my mind as I followed the group, trying to listen to Mr. Andrews as he explained the difficulties of designing such an enormous and luxurious ship. It was extremely boring, but Cal and Mother seemed fascinated, and though Rose was usually interested in this type of thing, today she was lost in her own little world.

We met Captain Smith in the wheel house, where Mr. Andrews explained to us the intricacies of each gadget. Just as we were about to leave, a messenger came and delivered an iceberg warning to the captain. We all turned to stare at him, shocked. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up.

"Oh, not to worry, it's quite normal for this time of year. In fact, we're speeding up. I've just ordered the last boilers lit," Captain Smith said, trying to reassure us. It did nothing of the kind for me. In fact, it only made me feel sicker.

Mr. Andrews led us outside onto the deck, and we followed unquestioningly. But I noticed a queer look on Rose's face, and I wondered what was wrong.

"Mr. Andrews, forgive me. I did the sum in my head, and with the number of lifeboats times the capacity you mentioned, forgive me, but it seems that there are not enough for everyone aboard," Rose said. I looked from her to Mr. Andrews, my stomach clenching with fear. I couldn't help putting Captain Smith's iceberg warning and Mr. Andrews' lacking boats together. What if we should hit an iceberg? What then? Would they have to pick who should live and who should die?

"Not enough by half, actually. Rose, you miss nothing, do you?" he asked, laughing a little, trying to brush it off as if it were nothing. I stopped listening to him, staring out at the ocean. It looked so calm and peaceful from here. But from up close, the waters seemed so terrifying, almost as if they had a will of their own. And they surely did. "…which can carry an extra row of boats inside this one, but it was thought, by some, that the deck would look too cluttered, so I was overruled."

"It's a waste of deck space as it is on an unsinkable ship," Cal said pompously, tapping the lifeboat with his cane.

"Sleep soundly, young Rose. I've built you a good ship, strong and true. She's all the life boats you need. Keep heading aft, the next stop will be the engine room," he said, and hastened his pace to catch up with Mother and Cal, while I did likewise.

"Do you intend on building other ships, Mr. Andrews?" Mother asked.

"Of course, ma'am. I love designing them; it's magical to create something that can float on water and sail across the oceans," Mr. Andrews said. I thought there must be some truth to his words, but I was nonetheless still queasy about what he had said about the lifeboats.

"I might need a fine man like you in my company," Cal said, puffing his chest out ridiculously and making himself seem even more pompous than he usually was.

"I'm honored, sir," Mr. Andrews said, though I was sure he was not. "If I am ever in Philadelphia, I'll be sure to look you up."

Cal smiled smugly, satisfied with this answer. I rolled my eyes at him, causing Mother to pinch me most painfully.

"Margaret, where's your sister?" she hissed in my ear. I spun quickly, sure that Rose was behind me. I looked around the deck, not sure where she had gone.

"I don't know, Mother," I said unnecessarily. It was pretty clear that I didn't.

"Well, go look for her. We'll be in the engine room," Mother said, hurrying to catch up with Mr. Andrews and Cal.

I walked back to the lifeboat where we had been standing when Rose brought up the subject of capacity, and I looked around. She was nowhere to be seen. Just as I was about to give up and return to Mother, I saw Rose coming out of the gym, looking sad and worried. She didn't even see me.

"Rose-"

She looked up, surprised to see me, and then glanced ahead, searching for Mother and Cal.

"Margaret, where are the rest of them?" she asked. She grabbed my arm and led me away, in the direction I had come from.

"They went to the engine room, we're supposed to meet them there," I said, turning my head to see Jack coming out of the gym room, looking just as sad as Rose. I wondered what had happened, but I didn't bring up the subject, not wanting to harm her more.

We walked in silence towards the engine room, and before we reached it we had caught up with the rest of our group. Rose was silent, as she had been before, and I kept staring at her, full of curiosity as to what they had been talking about. Mother didn't comment on Rose's absence, and neither did I, so it was as if nothing had happened, and so we were left to our own private thoughts.

We had lunch in the tearoom, with some of Mother's friends. They talked about my wedding, my plans for the wedding, Rose's plans, and Mother could not help but gossip about everything that had gone wrong for Rose, except the tiny problem that Rose was opposed to the marriage. The women all seemed scandalized, mostly by my impromptu engagement, though they didn't say so.

Rose was distant all throughout the meal, and I had to pinch her a few times when a question was addressed to her, so that she would answer it.

As soon as lunch was over, I rushed to the deck to find James. He smiled at me when he saw me, and wrapped me up in an embrace.

"Cal talked to me today," he said. "He warned me about your free spirit, and told me I should learn to rein you in now, before it all gets out of hand."

I laughed, but it was a hollow laugh.

"Surely you didn't take him seriously?" I asked.

"Of course not; I told him I'd talk to you about it," he said, and laughed.

"Thank you for defending me like that," I told him, letting him wrap his arms around me, ignoring the disapproving looks thrown at us by some of my mother's friends. "There were some problems in my family last night, concerning Rose and her liberty. You don't need to know them, they're so silly, but apparently Cal seems to care a lot about the matter."

"I'm not sure I'd like to have him as a brother," James said, frowning. I laughed.

"You wouldn't have him as a brother, you'd have him as a brother-in-law, law," I giggled. He kissed my forehead, laughing.

"Where do you want to go? We still have a few hours before dinner," James said.

"Take me somewhere safe," I told him. "Somewhere we won't be found." James laughed.

"I have a stateroom, if you want," James said, grinning.

"That'll do just fine," I told him, taking his hand and letting him lead me away from the deck.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

I left his stateroom shortly before dinner, hurrying into my own room and dressing. I wore an emerald-colored gown with black lace and a black sash, and I pinned my hair up with a butterfly comb identical to one Rose had. They had been given to us by our father for Christmas one year, and I had treasured mine all the more since he had died.

I met my family in the dining room, and was quick to notice Rose's absence, as well as Cal's preoccupation. I watched him as he whispered in the corner with Mr. Lovejoy, and wondered what Rose had done now. I hoped it wasn't anything too serious, because I was sure Mother wouldn't be able to handle too much more.

In the end, we had to be seated without her, and though Cal made his excuses for her, saying she didn't feel well and was in her room resting, I knew he was lying. Mother's expression of worry told me everything.

"Where's Rose?" James whispered in my ear when Cal had been drawn away from the table by Mr. Lovejoy, and the others were talking about grain prices in Europe.

"I don't know," I whispered back. "I think she must have run off or something."

"But where could she have run off to? It's a ship, there are only so many places she could hide," James whispered.

Apparently Cal felt the same way, because when he returned to the table, he looked both frustrated and worried. Dinner was a lot more polite than usual that night, and all the topics were extremely superficial, no one daring to talk about weddings or anything relating to them while Cal was in such a mood. He even snapped at the waiter when he didn't come back with a cigar quick enough.

I retired early, leading James into an alcove and kissing him passionately before promising to see him again in the morning.

"I don't think I can see you tonight, what with everything that's going on with Rose," I explained. I was grateful that he understood.

I got into my nightshift and wrapped myself in my favorite wrapper, a sapphire-colored silk confection, with wide sleeves and a stand-up collar. I sat at my vanity and brushed my hair for what seemed like hours, trying to stall and stay up as late as I could, hoping Rose would come back to her room before I fell asleep.

I could hear doors opening in the suite next to mine, could hear Mr. Lovejoy talking to Cal, could hear Cal yelling back at him. Cal had chosen to stay in Rose's suite, hoping he would see her come in, if she did. At one point I heard Mr. Lovejoy saying that he had seen Rose with Jack, and that they had run away from him, and gotten lost somewhere below deck. Cal yelled at him that he should double his efforts to find her, before something happened between them.

Then the yelling stopped. Things got quiet. I put down my brush, clutched my wrapper about me, and slowly opened the door that connected our suites. Cal stood amidst a crowd of men, talking rapidly, apparently very agitated. He was probably telling them that Rose had been kidnapped.

"Yes, that's right, a diamond necklace. It's very valuable, and I want it returned as soon as possible," Cal said.

I stared at him. What diamond necklace? Surely no one would rob us of our jewelry. Mother was opposed to flashy jewels; she said they made us look trashy. So what was there to steal?

"Excuse me, but what is going on here?" I asked, flinging the door wide, uncaring who saw me in my current state of dishabille.

"Margaret, darling. Someone has broken into our suite and stolen my necklace, the one I gave Rose as an engagement present. The Heart of the Ocean," he said, smiling falsely.

"Rose never told me of such a diamond," I said frankly, holding my head high. Cal glared at me.

"It was locked in that safe, and she hasn't worn it yet. She probably intended to wear it on our wedding day, and keep it a surprise until then," Cal explained to me, though the explanation was directed at the other men.

"Where is Rose? I should like to ask her about this myself," I said imperiously.

"Rose isn't here at the moment," Cal said through gritted teeth. I held in my triumphant smile.

"Where is she? We should also like to ask her about the matter," one of the gentlemen said.

"I'm not sure, I haven't seen her all evening," Cal admitted. "She said she was feeling ill, so she stayed in her room during dinner. I haven't seen her since, I don't know where she's gone."

I was surprised by this confession, but not by the lie. At least he had almost told the truth. That was definitely a step in the right direction for Cal.

Just as one of the men opened his mouth to speak, there was a horrible shudder, and the hum of the engines seemed to stop. I looked around, my blood running cold. I rushed to the window and looked out, but all I could see was night. I turned, and saw that Cal had already stuck his head out into the hallway.

"What just happened?" I asked of the gentlemen present.

"I'm not sure, they must have turned off the engine," one of them said.

"Yes, I know that, but why would they turn off the engines?" I demanded.

Mother opened the door to Rose's room, looking just as confused as the rest of us.

"What just happened? What is going on?" she asked. No one had an answer for her.

"Something is definitely wrong. I'm getting dressed," I announced. I intended to go up on deck and find someone who might know what was wrong, like the captain, or even Mr. Andrews.

I dressed quickly, putting on my favorite dress, a red one with embroidery. I pulled on my warmest stockings, and pulled on a coat. Lastly, I grabbed my butterfly pin and ran out into the hallway, pinning up my hair as I ran.

"Excuse me, can you tell me what happened?" I asked of an attendant who was walking through the hallway.

"We've likely thrown a propeller, miss," he said. "Nothing to worry about, they'll have it fixed in a minute, and then we'll be on our way. Nonetheless, you should return to your room to await further instructions."

I turned around and headed towards James' stateroom. He would know something, I was sure.

"James! James!" I called, pounding on his door. He opened, his face serious.

"Maggie!"

He hugged me tightly, kissing my forehead, then pulled me into his room.

"What's going on, James? No one will tell me anything, and I still don't know where Rose is," I told him.

"I don't know, but at least you're ready. The worst that could happen is that they'll send us out in the lifeboats," he said.

"But why would they do that, James?" I asked, laughing a little, though I hardly felt like laughing. "Surely you don't think we're sinking!"

"I don't know yet, Maggie. All we can do is wait. Stay here with me. I have extra life vests if we need them," he said, hugging me again.

"No! I have to get back to Mother. I have to know if Rose came back yet. You can come with me, James, but I can't leave them alone," I told him, pulling away and heading for the door.

"I should probably see to my parents, too. I'll meet you in your rooms in a half hour," he said, following me out the door but heading in the opposite direction.

When I arrived back in Rose's suite, Jack was being handcuffed by the Master-at-Arms. Rose stood to one side, staring at him, and Mother seemed just as shocked by the whole thing as Rose. But she quickly composed herself and returned to her own room, probably to compose herself.

"What did he do?" I asked Cal, who looked very smug about the whole situation.

"He stole my possessions," he said, glancing at Rose, who seemed to be in shock.

He stood around for a minute, clenching his fists, then walked up to Rose and slapped her, hard, causing her to look away and flinch.

"Stop it!" I yelled, but he ignored me.

"Well, it is a little slut, isn't it? You look at me when I'm talking to you!" he yelled, grabbing her by the arms, but before he could continue, there was a knock at the door and the steward opened the door, walking in on us. Cal quickly dropped Rose.

"Mr. Hockley," he said politely.

"Not now; we're busy," Cal told him through gritted teeth, glaring at Rose.

"Sir, I've been told to ask you to please put on your life belts and come up to the—"

"I said, not now!"

"I'm sorry to inconvenience you, Mr. Hockley, but it's Captain's orders. Now, please, dress warmly; it's quite cold out tonight. Now, may I suggest top coats and hats?" the steward said, bustling about and handing Rose a life preserver.

Cal glanced back at Rose letting out an impatient laugh.

"This is ridiculous," Cal muttered under his breath.

"Not to worry, Miss. I'm sure it's just a precaution," the steward said to Rose, presuming that she looked so shocked simply because of the news that we had to go up on deck and put on our life preservers. He left, leaving us alone.

Cal had been distracted, and I was glad. Before he could remember what he had been doing before the interruption, I hurriedly grabbed all the life preservers available to us, thrusting them at Mother, who had reappeared when she heard the knock, Cal, and Rose.

"Margaret, you take it," Rose said, holding out her life vest. "I'll get another one somewhere else," she said.

I smiled at her and gingerly put the vest on, tying it tightly with my sister's help.

Cal discarded his own vest, and refused to take a coat.

"It will only be for a minute, I'm sure," he insisted, despite even Rose's pleas.

We went upstairs to the Grand Staircase, waiting with the other first-class passengers. Mother put on her gloves, and was instructing Trudy to make a pot of tea, when Rose noticed Mr. Andrews and rushed up to him. I wanted to join her, but decided against it, not wanting to intrude in case it had anything to do with Jack's arrest.

Rose's face was ashen when she returned to me.

"You have to get to the lifeboats," she said simply.

We followed her up the stairs, to the deck. We met up with Molly Brown, who was already in line to get in a boat.

"Any room for a gentleman, uh, gentlemen?" Cal asked as politely as he could when he heard that the boats were being filled with women and children first.

"Only women and children at this time, sir," an officer told him, and he stood back, looking stung.

I watched as the boats were loaded, wives and children hugging their husbands and fathers, telling them they'd see them in a moment. But some were crying, knowing the situation was much worse than they were being told. I scanned the crowd for James, but couldn't find him. I hoped he was alright, and that he might possibly be able to get a seat on a boat.

"Will the lifeboats be seated according to class? I hope they're not too crowded," Mother complained, stepping gingerly into the lifeboat.

"Oh Mother, shut up! Don't you understand? The water is freezing and there aren't enough boats, not enough by half. Half the people on this ship are going to die!" Rose said, raising her voice for the first time in weeks. Mother stared at her, not daring to reprimand her, the reality sinking in at last.

"Not the better half," said Cal, who smirked at Rose. "You know, it's a pity I didn't keep that drawing; it'll be worth a lot more by morning," he added, still smirking. I had no idea what he was talking about, and stared at him, ignoring Mother's and Molly's calls for me to join them in the boat.

"You unimaginable bastard," Rose said, staring at him in sudden realization of something. She stepped backward, staring at Mother, the odd look still on her face.

"Goodbye Mother," she said, glaring at Cal and then running away, back inside the ship.

"Rose, what are you doing? Rose!"

I watched her go, my feet rooted to the spot, my mind grasping to understand the situation. Cal ran after her, and grabbed her, and I suddenly regained control of my body, running after them, trying to stop him from hitting her again.

"I'd rather be his whore than your wife!" Rose yelled at him, just as I caught up with them. She spit in his face, and just as he let go to wipe it off, she ran away.

Ignoring Cal, I ran after Rose, calling her name, trying to get her attention.

"Margaret! Get back there! You have to get on a boat!" Rose said, turning around at last.

"No, Rose, I have to come with you. I don't even know where James is," I said.

"Margaret, go back to Cal. Please, I don't even know if I'll be able to get off this ship. But I won't go without Jack, and I can't go looking for him if I don't know you're safe," she said, putting a hand on my shoulder and talking to me as if I was a child again. But if there was one thing Titanic had taught me, it was that I wasn't a child anymore.

"Rose, I won't leave you!" I said, shrugging her hand away.

"Margaret, stop it! You're wasting my time! I can't take you with me! Please, you have to understand that!"

I didn't say anything, losing my voice when faced with the blazing love in her eyes.

"Promise you'll get to a lifeboat as soon as you find him?" I asked.

"I promise," Rose said, and hugged me quickly. Then she hurried back inside, back to Jack.

Cal was still standing where Rose had left him. He looked furious, and didn't say anything when I joined him.

"Margaret!"

I looked around, trying to see who had called me, and I noticed a hand, waving above the heads of the rest, and soon James surfaced.

"James!"

I ran into his arms, kissing him desperately, not caring who saw.

"Margaret, why aren't you on a boat? The ship is sinking, you have to get off! I've already put Mother on one, and Father is helping some of the officers load another one," he said.

"I had to find you first, James," I explained.

"You've found me now," he said. "Now it's time to find a lifeboat."

He took my hand and started dragging me towards a line of people queuing up in front of a boat. I roughly pulled away.

"No, James, I won't leave you. I can't. Please don't make me," I told him.

"Well, you're going to have to. I have to help load the boats, and you can't stand around all night," James said seriously.

"I will!" I protested.

He shook his head and looked at Cal, who was still standing there, though he had composed his face slightly.

"Cal, can I trust you to look after Margaret? Please, I have to go help my father," James said. Cal nodded.

"Of course," he said, taking my hand and holding it tightly, too tightly for me to slip out of his grasp and run back to join James.

"I love you, Margaret," James said, and kissed me, then ran off to join his father and the other officers.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

The ship was sinking fast. The orchestra was still playing, though no one was listening. I kept by Cal's side, terrified by the sight of the dark waters that drew ever closer. Flares were sent up into the sky, making a loud popping noise that hurt my ears, and the bright light they created burned my eyes when I looked at them. I had no idea where to find James, and didn't want to get lost while looking for him. I was sure that my best bet was to stay here with Cal, at least until James came back and we could get on a lifeboat together.

Mr. Lovejoy stayed with us, too. At random moments he would walk away, then return and whisper things to Cal. I paid no mind, too busy scanning the crowd for familiar faces, too busy watching the waters rise.

At one point Cal walked off, saying he needed to get a coat. He was gone a long time. When he came back, he didn't have a coat. But I was so scared I wasn't thinking straight, and didn't question.

Finally he grabbed my wrist and led me to a boat on the other side of the ship. We arrived just as an officer waved a gun at the crowd and yelled, "I'll shoot any man who tries to get past me. Get back!"

"We had a deal, damn you!" Cal said, stepping forward in the direction of the gun, even though I held him back. He was the last person I knew who was still with me, and I wasn't quite sure what I would do if I lost him.

The officer threw a wad of bills in Cal's face.

"Your money can't save you any more than it can save me," the officer said.

I spun my head quickly in time to see someone jump out from the crowd, and heard the gunshot that emanated from the officer's gun. The man crumpled to the ground, his life preserver quickly turning red with blood. My mouth fell open, and I watched him, horrorstruck, watching death.

"Bastard!" yelled a man with a thick Italian accent, kneeling next to the dying man.

The officer stared, just as horrorstruck as me, and stepped backwards, raising the gun to his head. An officer turned and stared at him.

"No, Will!" he yelled, as he realized what was going on. I heard the gunshot, and then the splash as the body hit the water.

No one wasted any time mourning their deaths. The boat continued to fill with people, and Cal grabbed my hand and pushed forward through the crowd.

"Please sir, let me on, I need to be with my sister, I'm the only living relative she has!" Cal called to the officer, holding my hand up. I didn't say anything, watching as the waters rose, engulfing the deck.

"Get on," the officer said, weakening. He knew he needed to save as many people as he could. It was too late to be picky about who should live.

We climbed into the boat, and proceeded to help as many as possible get into the boat. But soon we were floating on the water, and only one line had been cut.

I watched in horror, wondering what would happen, tightly holding Cal's hand, hoping for a miracle.

The other line released, and Cal stood, grabbing an oar and rowing. I sat still, my mouth open, watching as people swam around in the icy water, trying to grab hold of the boat, trying to get in.

"Get away! You'll swamp us!" Cal yelled at them, pushing them away. I couldn't even object, my mind was so confused. And all I could really think about was James. I stared at each face in turn, trying to find his, trying to see if he still had a chance to live.

The funnel crashed into the water, spraying me with icy flakes. I shivered, wiping the water off my face, but continued to stare at the people swimming around, hoping to find James, or even Rose or Jack.

We had gotten far enough away from the ship when I saw the stern sticking up in the air, dragged down by the bow, that part already submerged. I stared, my mouth still open in horror, a lump in my throat, wanting to cry but unable to. I could hear people screaming, could hear the sound of people jumping into the water in a desperate attempt to save themselves.

The stern crashed back, and floated for a second. I hoped it might float, that some might be spared, but my hope was in vain. It began to rise again, until it was completely vertical. Then it began to sink. The screams of terror increased, and I gripped the side of the boat, my nails digging into the wood, turning my knuckles white.

Then it was gone. There was no sign of the great "unsinkable" ship, nothing to mark what had happened. But the desperate cries of those still alive, bobbing around in the icy waters, still reached our ears.

"Cal, go back! They need our help! Go back!" I yelled at him, but he shook his head, staring at the mass of moving black specks behind us.

I didn't say anything after that. I listened as the cries grew fainter, and then disappeared altogether. I watched as a light moved towards the mass, and I knew that at least one boat had returned for the survivors. But no other sound was heard. It was quiet and cold, and I knew, somewhere deep inside my gut, that James was dead. But I refused to admit it, hoping he had gotten into a boat, or was in the water and that they would find him.

A whistle sounded, very far off. I didn't know what it was, but supposed it was one of the officers sounding it, trying to attract the attention of those in the water.

The wait was interminable. We waited forever, waited for morning, for a ship, for some kind of salvation. It was horrible, to think about it. I tried to distract my thoughts, but it was all that I could think about. And even though I once thought about talking to Cal about something, anything to distract me, I found I didn't have the strength to talk, to say anything to anyone.

When morning came, a huge ship appeared in the morning light. We drew level to it, and one by one we were raised up to its deck using a swing. I kept close to Cal, not wanting to lose him, too. He was the only person I knew in this huge mass of people.

"Margaret, Cal!" someone yelled.

Cal spun, and I imitated him, not registering my name. I was still in shock.

I noticed Mother, running towards us, crying with joy. I hugged her, happy for the first time in my life to see her. I didn't want her to let go, I didn't want her to leave my side, even.

"Oh my God Margaret! I'm so glad you're safe!" she said, over and over through her tears. I couldn't say anything, I just cried.

"Where's Rose?" Cal asked. It was a question I had been thinking, too.

Mother couldn't speak for a second. She cried, and shook her head. We both knew what that meant. I screamed and fell to the floor, too weak by everything to stand it anymore. Cal scooped me up in his arms and held me tight, in such a way that it was actually comforting.

"And James?" he asked for me. Mother shook her head again, making my sobbing even worse.

The doctor was called immediately. He gave me another blanket, and told me to rest, and I could hear him telling Mother and Cal that nothing else could be done for me. Loss is not something you can treat with medicine, he said. But he counseled them to stay close by me at all times, to remind me that I had not lost everything. And so they did. For the entire time we were on the Carpathia, neither one left my side, not for a second.

I soon noticed a change in Cal. He seemed to have lost all of his pompous attitude, all of his smug ways. Even Mother seemed changed by the incident. They both tended to my every need, and though I could understand why Mother did so, I couldn't understand Cal. But my mind was still so jumbled, so confused that I didn't bother to ask him about it, didn't bother to question his motives.

We disembarked in New York, and Cal took us to the fanciest hotel. There, I was put to bed immediately, and I was given dinner. Mother stayed by me until I fell asleep, and Cal checked in on us every hour or so.

The next day new dresses arrived for me and Mother, nothing quite as extravagant as those we had lost on the Titanic, but something to tide us over until we reached Philadelphia. I didn't bother to get out of bed, but read the whole day, trying to lose myself in books in a desperate attempt to escape the painful reality of my sister's and fiancé's deaths.

That night, when my dinner was brought to me and Mother was out talking to the hotel staff, Cal visited me. He was quiet, and watched me eat for a moment, his expression soft. Finally he drew up a chair and sat next to me.

"Margaret, I'm sorry about James," he said quietly. I stopped eating and looked at him. "But I'm still glad you made it. You know, I always liked you just as much as Rose."

I couldn't say anything. I was still processing his words, trying to give them a meaning.

"I know it's still very soon, but I've come to appreciate you more, Margaret," he said. "And if you don't mind, I'd like to marry you."

I stared, not sure if I was hearing him correctly.

"Marry you?"

"I understand if you don't want to marry me, after the way I treated your sister. And besides, I'm sure you still love James. But if it's possible for you to ever feel anything for me, anything at all, I would like it if you would accept my proposal."

He bent his head, and I stared at it. His hair had been messy for the past few days, and I could only presume that he, too, had been in too much shock to care about his appearance. But he did seem different, and I knew he had been affected by Rose's death, knew he missed her. The last few days, he had been so different from the person I had come to know so well in the months before we boarded Titanic. And anyway, it didn't matter who I married anymore. My heart was in the grave, and I doubted it would ever come back.

"Alright."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

The next day we boarded a train for Philadelphia. By that afternoon we had arrived, and we were making ourselves comfortable at Cal's father's house. They withdrew to the study, while I was taken upstairs to recuperate. About an hour later, Cal came to see me in my room, and told me that his father had approved of the match, and that the wedding would take place the same day Rose's was supposed to take place.

By then I had gathered myself enough to realize what I was doing. But I didn't care. I missed Rose and James terribly, and I knew Cal had changed. So I walked down the aisle in Rose's intended dress, trying to smile. I wore the necklace James had given me, as a reminder of who I should be seeing at the altar.

The reception afterwards was tiresome, but I pretended to enjoy it. I made use of my society mask, that I had learned to use so well in the weeks since Titanic. Everyone congratulated me, wished me well, but no one mentioned Rose, or even James. It was as if neither of them had existed.

"Margaret, I'm so happy for you," Mother said, kissing me. I smiled and hugged her back, choking back the tears that wanted to spring up. "I'm so glad you found happiness at last."

_I'm not really happy, _I wanted to tell her. _I'm suffering. I miss Rose and James, but I can't talk about them because then I'll start crying and ruin the wedding, and you and Cal will hate me forever. _

"Margaret, darling, would you care to dance?" Cal asked, holding a hand out to me. I took it, smiling falsely, and as he spun me around, I could hear the guests smiling and saying what a lovely couple we made.

"How happy they look together," someone said.

If only they could know the truth! How inside I was hurting, hurting so much that I didn't want to tell anyone. How I had to internalize the pain in order to stand it. But they would never know, because I would never tell them.

The party ended long after midnight. Cal and I got into a cab and we were driven to our new townhouse, which my new father-in-law had bought us as a wedding gift.

It was dark and quiet, since none of the servants had arrived yet. I suddenly missed Charlotte, who had been so good to me during the many years she had served me. But I choked back the tears, and allowed Cal to lead me upstairs to the bedroom.

"I love you, Margaret," he said as he undid the buttons to my dress. I made no objection, and stood there and cried silently.

There wasn't any of the magic that I had felt with James. Cal asked once why I was crying; I told him I was happy. He was drunk enough to believe me. The next morning I woke up late, and he came in, dressed already, waiting for me to come down to breakfast.

Weeks passed, and I sound found that Cal was a persistent lover. There was hardly a night when he wasn't filled with lust, and I hadn't the heart to discourage him. Who was I, after all, to deny him happiness, simply because I was still in mourning?

So it was not surprising when, four months after our wedding, the doctor was summoned to our home. I had been vomiting for the past few days, and Cal had, naturally, been concerned about me.

"You are with child, Mrs. Hockley," I remember the doctor said, looking at me over his spectacles. "At least three months, to be exact."

I looked at Cal, who had been standing in the corner, watching the passersby in the street below us. At the word "child", he had turned to stare, first at the doctor, then at me. I smiled at him, hoping he wasn't angry, that he wouldn't revert back to his old self. But he smiled back at me, and laughed gaily.

"I am to be a father!" he said, and clapped his hands proudly.

"I will return in a few weeks to check up on you," the doctor said, ignoring Cal's previous remark. "So far, you are doing fine. If you are feeling tired, simply rest. Do not exert yourself too much; it would be bad for the health both of yourself and of your child. And eat and drink as much as you wish, for now you are eating for two."

He left on that note, congratulating Cal. I could hear them from the doorway, could hear the servants scuffling about in the kitchen, trying to hear the cause for my illness.

"Good bulls sire quickly," Cal said proudly, upon re-entering the room. I smiled at him, not wanting to roll my eyes at his boasting. I had not been in the least mutinous since Titanic, something both my mother and Cal were grateful for, I was sure.

"And you of course are a good bull, my darling," I said. "The best."

Cal puffed out his chest with importance.

"So, naturally, my child will be exceedingly worthy," he continued, coming to sit on the edge of the bed by my side. I smiled and said nothing, silently agreeing with him, as a good wife should.

"Cal, would you be a dear and tell Susan to make a pot of tea? I am feeling a bit thirsty," I told him, squeezing his hand.

"Of course, and then I will go out to relay this most wonderful news to our parents."

"Alright dear, but be back before dark," I told him. He smiled at me and rose, pausing in the doorway to take me in. I laughed and ushered him out. But as soon as he was gone, I burst into tears.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

It was a boy, whom we named Caledon Jr. He was beautiful, with his mother's blue eyes but his father's dark hair. He was a quiet child, who watched everything intensely, smiled often but laughed little. Cal was fiercely proud of him, and I loved watching them together. Cal often brought friends over for the sole purpose of seeing his son, and it wasn't until I told him that it was unmanly of him that he stopped.

His grandfather was also very proud of him, and came to see us once a week, insisting each visit to see his grandchild, even if he was asleep.

"I might want another one," Cal said one afternoon, when Caledon was asleep in the nursery, and the servants weren't around. He kissed me, and I laughed.

"I can't do it without your help, though," I said, and kissed him back, with all the passion that I could sum up. But my passion was always limited, because it was a passion I didn't feel, didn't believe belonged to Cal. But he never noticed the difference.

"I'm so glad you and Cal are getting along so well," Mother said one afternoon during a visit. She smiled proudly, carefully putting her teacup back on the table. "It's such a nice change since…"

Her voice trailed off, and I could feel my eyes turn into slits as I glared at her. It was the first time anyone had directly spoken of it to me since it happened.

"What do you mean, Mother?" I demanded, in a cold, quiet tone.

"Well, back on Titanic, when Cal was engaged to Rose, you didn't seem to like him very much. But now you two seem so much in love…"

"I wouldn't go that far, Mother. Wasn't it you who said that love in a marriage is never a good thing?" I asked, putting my own teacup down. She cleared her throat uncomfortably, beginning to feel cornered.

"Don't be silly, Margaret, I only said that because Rose wouldn't accept Cal's proposal, and we needed the money. Love in a marriage should never be a priority, but it certainly helps," she said, drawing herself up to her full height.

"I have a fondness for Cal, if nothing more," I told her. "But I do love Caledon Jr., very much so," I admitted.

"Now, that's something. I heard from Mr. Hockley that Cal's business is flourishing," Mother said, abruptly changing the subject. I made no objection, myself only too glad to escape the painful memories. I unconsciously fingered my engagement necklace, which I happened to do whenever I started to think about James or the Titanic.

"Yes, he's doing very well. He hopes that we'll soon be able to take a vacation," I told her.

"Oh? Where to?"

"We don't know yet, but definitely somewhere we don't have to use a boat to travel to," I told her. She needed no further explanation.

"I hear that New York is very nice around Christmastime," Mother suggested, just as the door swung open and Cal came in, smiling brightly.

"Hello!" he said, kissing me on the cheek. "How are you doing, Mother?"

"Just fine, thank you," Mother said, rising. "I was about to be leaving, though."

"Oh, don't leave on my account," Cal said, motioning for her to sit again. "I was going to go upstairs and review some accounts. I don't intend to bother you two in the least."

"That's very kind, but I unfortunately have a previous engagement with a Mr. Charles Whitebury. I'm meeting him for dinner, and then we're going to the theater," Mother said, blushing proudly. I laughed.

"Oh, Mother, how wonderful. You must come by tomorrow to tell me all about it," I insisted, standing as she made her way to the door. "You don't really have accounts, do you?" I asked Cal once she had left.

"No," he confessed, kissing me again. "Now what was it that you two were saying about New York at Christmastime?"

I laughed and pulled away, ringing the bell for Susan to come to clean up.

"Mother said it was really nice and Christmastime, and suggested that we go for a vacation," I told him, going upstairs to the nursery to check on Caledon. Cal followed.

"Would you like to go to New York?" he asked, just before I opened the door to find Caledon asleep. I pressed my finger to his lips, to keep him from saying anything more.

"If you wouldn't mind going, I suppose not," I said, smiling from beneath lowered lashes. He laughed and spun me around, making my skirts flare out. I laughed but quickly quieted myself, in order to not wake the baby.

"Then we'll go to New York this Christmas!" Cal announced.

Shortly before our visit to New York, the doctor was called once again. And once again, the diagnosis was that I was pregnant. Cal was even prouder this time, and rushed forward to kiss me as soon as he heard the news. I laughed, and the doctor gave me the same instructions to follow. He also advised that Cal not expect too much from me during our trip, because of my condition. I laughed and assured him that Cal would take good care of me.

We bundled up against the cold, Susan carrying Caledon in her arms and our butler carrying the suitcases. Cal eagerly held the door open for me, and from inside the car I reached out for Caledon.

"Have a good trip, Miss!" Susan called. I waved.

The car was off, beginning its short journey to New York, a city I had not visited in over a year. I did not doubt that the servants would enjoy themselves in a large house without us, nor whether Cal himself would have fun amongst his rich friends. But I did doubt my own amusement, though, like always, I refused to let my emotions show.

"You'll like New York," Cal was telling his son, bouncing him on his knee. "There's lots of snow, and I'll even take you for a ride in a horse-drawn carriage."

Caledon eagerly clapped his hands in delight.

"You might want to be careful where you take him, he might freeze," I warned Cal. He laughed, gaily tossing off my warning.

"Caledon won't freeze, he has the strength of his father," he announced proudly. I laughed, as I always did when Cal boasted about himself like this.

It was night when we finally arrived in New York. Caledon was asleep, and Cal carried him inside. I held him while we checked into the Plaza, and Cal held him as we got into the elevator which took us upstairs to our rooms overlooking the park.

We put him in bed and took off our coats. Cal helped himself to some champagne, while I sat in the window seat and watched the snow fall.

"Do you need anything?" Cal asked, turning to face me. I shook my head. "You know, it's times like these that you remind me of Rose. She could get so serious, so withdrawn sometimes."

I smiled sadly, remembering that this was the city Rose never saw.

"You do love me, don't you Cal?" I asked quietly, not facing him.

He came and sat down in the seat, facing me, the champagne glass still in his hand.

"I love you as much as a man could ever love his wife. You're beautiful, you're a wonderful mother, and you have just as much spirit as Rose, though yours is in the right place," he told me. I smiled at him and put my hand in his, seeking comfort from my own disturbing thoughts. "Are you glad you married me?"

"Of course I am," I said, half-lying. I smiled sadly.

"I'm glad I married you. You're probably the best thing that's ever happened to me, Margaret. I hope you know that," he said, and stood. He left his champagne glass on a table and went into our room.

I didn't go to sleep that night. I stayed up until the sun rose over Central Park, watching the snow fall. I remembered how Rose used to love the snow when we were little. I disliked it because it was cold and wet, and made my skirts heavy, but Rose delighted in it, and spent hours outside, rolling around in the snow, laughing and refusing to come back inside when Mother asked her to.

Cal woke up early and came outside, looking disheveled and worn. I smiled at him from my window seat, standing up and stretching my aching muscles. Neither of us said anything, and I was glad to be released from the pressure by Caledon, who yelled for someone to come to him.

That day we went to visit one of Cal's business friends, a man named Sir Michael Johnson. He had a wife and four children, all of them girls, and I smiled and answered politely all of their questions. I acted the same as usual, but I could tell that Cal had noticed the change in me.

"Did you like the Johnsons?" he asked when we returned home that night, and Caledon had been put to bed. I was undressing for bed, carefully hanging up my dress and undergarments, and Cal was doing the same, though much less orderly.

"Mrs. Johnson was very nice," I told him, sitting down on the edge of the bed and motioning him to climb in with me.

"You didn't really like her, did you?" he asked, grinning. I laughed and shook my head.

"No," I confessed. He put his arms around me, embracing me the way James used to do. I started to cry, no longer able to control myself, finally releasing everything after more than a year of holding it all in.

"It's alright," he crooned, rocking me the same way he rocked Caledon when he was an infant. "You're safe now."

"Cal, you're too good to me, really," I sniffled into his chest. "Oh, Cal!"

"It's alright, Margaret," he said, kissing my forehead.

"I love you, Cal."

The hardest words I ever had to say were those. But in that instance, I actually meant them. I knew I could never love him as much as I loved James, and I knew he knew that. But we both were glad I had finally said it.

"I love you too, Maggie."

The nickname James used to use hit me hard. And suddenly I needed to escape it all, to get to oblivion. I kissed him almost with as much passion as I used to kiss James with. Then I turned off the light and went to sleep, a mercifully dreamless sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Two days later we left for home. Cal had been civil during the past few days, maybe a bit more loving than usual, but he certainly didn't try to fool himself that I loved him back. I tried my best to show him that I did love him, just not as much as James, but he didn't take the hint. Around Caledon we acted the same as always, neither of us wanting to traumatize him, but I was glad when we were finally home in Philadelphia, and we had escaped both the confinement of the car as well as the torturous memories of the city.

Mother and Mr. Hockley both called on us the day after our return, but I pleaded sickness and stayed in bed all day. Cal went about his normal business, sometimes coming into the room to check up on me, but even then our conversations were restricted to small talk.

"Cal," I said quietly that afternoon, and he paused in the doorway, turning to look at me. "I never thanked you for saving my life."

He smiled at me, and it was a real smile this time, full of gratitude, and something I hoped was love. He closed the door and came over to my side, kissing me and drawing up a chair.

"I'm sorry I've been so mean to you. But it was hard, to go back to New York. I'm sure you understand," I explained, not daring to look at him as I spoke.

"It's alright," he said, holding my hand. He picked it up and kissed it, the same way Jack had done on the Titanic to Rose. "I understand."

I wasn't sure he did, but I was glad he accepted my explanation.

After that there was peace between us, and even though Cal never again made the mistake of loving me too much, we were still friends. Friends who were intimate and liked each other maybe a little more than friends should.

In June of that year, another boy was born. I named him James, and Cal loved him just as much, if not more, than Caledon. Caledon was by now quite grown-up, as he was just over a year, and he had many friends his own age in Philadelphia, many of them girls.

"What a stud my son is!" Cal would joke sometimes over the dinner table. "Not even two years old and already the girls love him!"

Caledon was just beginning to speak, and I remember very clearly that his first word was "love". It had been an early morning, and Cal and I were in the nursery, playing with the boys. Caledon had pointed first to me, then to Cal, and had said, quite clearly, "Love!"

Cal had swept him up in his arms and had proudly retold the story to all the servants, even the scullery maids. And Caledon was given extra dessert. I laughed and told him not to spoil the child, but Cal didn't listen, he was so proud. But my son's first word sadly reminded me of my own first love.

"No, put that over here, it will give the table a sense of balance," I instructed the maid, pointing to the large vase full of flowers.

Cal's birthday was approaching, and I wanted to surprise him. I was preparing a huge party, and I had invited all of our friends. The cooks had been slaving away for days in the kitchen, preparing all of his favorite foods. I had even gone so far as to order new outfits for the boys to wear, and had even gotten a new dress for myself, a lilac silk confection, with pretty white lace from France.

"Good. The cake should go in the middle, to remind people of the occasion," I said, and motioned to the place of honor. "Perhaps we should put a card on his plate. I think it's a good idea, don't you?"

"Of course, ma'am," the maid said.

It was times like these that I missed Charlotte and Trudy. They had always been so honest with us, unlike the maids who now lived in my home. They always agreed with you, even if they disagreed, and were polite to no end. It was enough to make me sick.

"Good then, I'll have Caledon make one. And make sure to lock the doors tonight before he gets home from work, I don't want him to see anything," I told her, knowing that the girl wouldn't do anything she hadn't been told to do.

"Very well, ma'am."

I left the room and went upstairs to check on Caledon and James, who were in the nursery. James was sleeping, and Caledon had been playing with his toys, quietly, as I had told him to do. They were exactly where I had left them.

"Mommy!" Caledon exclaimed when I entered the room. I put my finger to my lips, pointing to the sleeping James, and Caledon quickly quieted, looking slightly guilty.

"Mommy, I made a painting for you," he said, holding up a pencil drawing of me and Cal. I smiled and hugged him.

"Thank you, it's very pretty," I told him, though it was but a simple child's drawing.

"Mommy, when is Daddy coming home?"

As if by magic, the door opened downstairs, and I could hear the maid saying hello. I left Caledon behind and hurried downstairs, hoping Cal wouldn't open the door to the dining room.

"Darling, you're home early," I said, smiling.

"Yes, there isn't much need for me today, so I thought I'd spend a lazy afternoon with you. We could even go to the theater tonight, if you want," he said, kissing me and starting to move towards the stairs.

"That's sounds lovely," I said, keeping my back to the dining room door and trying to keep him from going inside. "Did you eat already?"

"No, is that a problem?"

"Well, the boys and I already ate, but…"

"I'll eat in our room, it's fine," Cal said, and I smiled, grateful that he hadn't insisted on eating at the table.

"That sounds perfect. I'll just tell Susan, and she'll get something ready for you. I'll meet you upstairs," I told him, and hurried into the kitchen. When I was sure Susan had locked the door, and that Cal's spare key was safely hidden, I went upstairs, surprising Cal half-naked, changing out of his suit. I blushed and quickly closed the door so the servants wouldn't see. Cal laughed.

"Still a virgin, are you?" he joked, and I turned my back to him, busying myself by pretending to organize my jewelry that was sitting on my vanity.

He snuck up behind me, and I only realized when he put his arms around me, and rested his chin on my shoulder. I turned my face slightly, and allowed him to kiss my cheek. Then his hands started roving, and I pulled away when he started to unbutton my blouse.

"No, Cal, I don't want to traumatize the children," I told him, tucking my blouse back into my skirt.

"Come on, Caledon's got to learn sometime about being a man," Cal argued, enveloping me once again in an embrace. It was so passionate I didn't even bother to pull away. "This is exactly why I came home," he whispered. I arched, allowing him to unbutton me.

"Just lock the door," I whispered fervently as he pulled off my skirt and started to unlace my corset.

The birthday party was a success. Mother even complimented me on how well I had adapted to matrimonial duties. I smiled politely through the whole thing, my mask in place. I didn't react to anything, not even when a half-drunk Cal announced to the whole party that I was "the best goddamn wife in the whole world and I've never even once thought about prostitutes."

It was late at night when everyone dispersed. I carefully closed the door, carried Caledon, who had fallen asleep in a corner, upstairs to bed, and told Susan to clean up the next day. Exhausted, I went upstairs, intending to go directly to bed, but instead I found Cal sitting on the edge of the bed, crying.

"Cal? Cal, what's wrong?" I asked, nervous about seeing him cry. He had always seen crying as a sign of weakness, and I wasn't sure he'd appreciate me seeing him in such a state.

"I miss Rose," he said tearfully. I sat down next to him, wrapping my arms around him, tears welling up in my own eyes.

"I do, too," I whispered. "I miss her a lot."

"You're a good wife, Maggie," he sobbed. "But Rose was so wonderful! She was so wild!"

"Come to bed, darling, you'll feel better tomorrow, I'm sure," I told him, kissing his cheek. I was desperate to get out of this conversation as soon as I could.

"Why she had to fall in love with that Jack character, I'll never know. But if she hadn't run off with him, I'm sure she'd be alive. I'm sure she would love me still," he said. I tried to shut him out, to ignore him completely, but I could not manage to do so.

"Cal, you're drunk and you're tired. It's doing neither one of us any good," I told him, my tone becoming suddenly strict, my face losing all of its placid calm. He stared at me, shocked back to reality by the rough quality to my voice.

"Maggie, you look really pretty in this light," he said, seeming to snap out of his drunken, depressed state. I ignored him, sure it was just my eyes making me see things.

"Come on, Cal, stand up, I'll help you undress," I told him. He didn't move.

"Rose never took care of me the way you do," he continued. I abandoned the effort, and stood up, going to my own wardrobe and pulling out my favorite nightgown, the one with the French lace collar and sleeves, with the pink ribbon entwined with the lace around the collar. I took down my hair, letting it fall about my shoulders in a heavy, wavy mass, then stepped out of my dress. It was then that I realized I needed Cal's help to get out of my corset.

"Cal, help me," I said, walking back to him and turning my back to him, showing him the corset laces. He stood and put his hands on my waist, though I ignored that move. Then he spun me, making me face him. I stared up into his face, and noticed how bright his dark eyes were shining.

"You're even more beautiful than Rose with your hair down, you know that?" he told me. I didn't know what to say, unsure both about his sanity and his sobriety. He answered my unasked question, though, by bending down and kissing me even more violently than even James had kissed me.

He pulled me close to him, and took off my corset, throwing it to the floor. I didn't fight back when he kissed me again, this time even more violently.

"Tell me you love me," he said, pulling away but keeping his arms wrapped tight around me so I couldn't run away to evade the demand.

I stared up at him, not registering the words in my mind. I wasn't sure if he was talking about James or himself, because I always connected to word "love" with "James". But Cal had said "me."

"Tell me you love me," he insisted, kissing me again.

"I love you!" I yelled, and wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him back. He threw me on the bed and climbed in, too, turning off the lights as he did so.

"I'm about to do the most beautiful woman in the world, goddammit!" he yelled. I didn't even care whether the servants heard. Let them hear! I was in love with Cal!


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

My life continued as normal. I soon forgot about the night I spent with Cal, though I could not erase the feeling that something had happened that night out of the ordinary, though I wasn't sure what. I was more attentive to his needs, though, and even in society, where I had always been careful to be as placid and impassible as possible, I started to come out of the shell in which I had cocooned myself for the last year and a half.

Mother also noticed the difference, and commented on it one day when we were having tea at a posh Philadelphian restaurant. I had no explanation for her, and all she could say about it was that I was behaving "more like myself".

Cal didn't notice, or at least, he didn't comment. And I was fine with that. I knew something had happened that had changed my outlook on life, and I knew Cal had something to do with it.

He came home earlier these days, sometimes with small presents for me, like new stationary, or a new brooch. I smiled and kissed him, thanking him. And every time he would seem extremely pleased with himself, as if he hadn't been sure what my reaction would be. Only Caledon and James didn't notice anything, and they acted exactly the same as always, in the same sweet, innocent manner.

"What are you doing this summer, Margaret?"

I looked up, having been completely distracted by thoughts of my own. I smiled at Elizabeth and pretended to have been listening.

"We're not sure yet. We might go somewhere like California, though," I said, smiling at Cal as I spoke.

"That sounds fun; you'll be taking the boys, then?" Elizabeth wanted to know.

"Yes, most definitely. I think they'd profit immensely from the trip," I explained. "And yourself? Where are you going?"

"Daddy and I are going to England, France, and Italy. It'll be oh so much fun, and he's promised to take me to see the Eiffel Tower," Elizabeth said excitedly.

"And you'll be traveling by boat, I suppose," Cal said offhandedly, sipping his tea.

"Of course; we've got first-class tickets for the maiden voyage of the Elwin."

I dropped my cup, staring at her in shock. I couldn't believe that she was even thinking about going on a maiden voyage across the Atlantic. So many things could go wrong!

"You can't go, Elizabeth, you can't," I said, suddenly desperate. "You have no idea how dangerous it is! Trans-Atlantic voyages are dangerous enough without it being the maiden voyage of the ship! Oh, Elizabeth, I couldn't bear to lose you!"

Both Cal and Elizabeth were staring at me as if I was crazy. I didn't care. I was too concerned about Elizabeth to care. She had become one of my closest friends, and I was sure that if she went on that voyage, I would lose her in exactly the same way I lost Rose.

"Margaret, darling, are you alright?" Cal asked, putting his arms around me. I turned to look at him, and noticed how his face was lined with worry.

"Cal, she can't go! Tell her she can't go!"

"I'm sorry, but I can't, Margaret. It's her decision," Cal tried to reason with me.

Elizabeth was looking very confused and very concerned for me.

"I'm sorry to have caused this. Maybe you should go home, Margaret. I'm sure you're very tired," she said. "I have to go anyway; I have an art class in a half hour."

She rose, and she looked pityingly at Cal.

"Call me if you need anything," she told him.

"Don't let her go, Cal!" I cried, reaching out for her. I tried to stand, to run after her, but he held me down.

"Calm down, Margaret. She's not going anywhere yet. And besides, I'm sure she'll be fine. Ships have been made a lot safer since you last were on one," he comforted. At the same time, he motioned for the waiter to bring the check.

"But Cal, she could die-"

"She won't die, you're just being silly, Margaret. We're going to go home now, and I want you to lie down and rest. Will you do that for me, darling?"

I nodded, and allowed him to lead me through the movements of putting on my coat, getting into the automobile, getting upstairs, getting into my nightgown, and getting into bed.

The doctor was called, and he did a thorough examination of me. He took Cal aside and they talked in whispers. I didn't even try to listen. I was lost in depressing memories of a year and a half previous.

"Thank you for coming, Doctor," Cal said finally.

"It was my pleasure. Feel better, Mrs. Hockley," he said, and was gone.

Cal came to sit on the bed next to me, and took my hand.

"The doctor says you just overreacted to hearing about a close friend of yours going on a maiden voyage across the Atlantic. You suffered the last time you did that, so you wanted to prevent her from suffering, too. He also says you're tired, and need to rest."

I smiled at him and nodded my head. My eyes did feel heavy, exhausted by trying to play with Caledon, cater to the teething James, and look after the servants to make sure they didn't poke a hole in the portrait of Mr. Hockley that was hanging in the drawing room as they were cleaning.

"You need to calm yourself, Margaret. Let go of Titanic. It happened so long ago; you can't carry it with you forever," Cal reasoned. He kissed my hand. "Promise you'll try to let go, to enjoy life in the present, here with me."

"I promise, Cal," I whispered. There was such a calming, solid strength to his words. Maybe he was right.

"The doctor also says you're pregnant again."

Those words were even more shocking than what Elizabeth had had to say. I looked at him, not sure I had heard him right.

"Is he sure?" I asked. He nodded. "But it's so soon after James…"

"You're about three or four months along. That's why you had trouble getting your corset on the other day, remember?"

I remembered, only too well. I had been ashamed to ask Cal for help, because I thought I was gaining weight because of too many sweets or suchlike.

"That's good, isn't it?" I asked, trying to smile.

"Yes, it's good," Cal said, smiling and leaning forward to kiss my forehead.

Mother was stunned by the news. She hadn't realized just how persistent Cal was, and I delighted at the sight of her face when I told her about the baby. She told me frankly that I should hope it was a girl, because if there are too many boys, they fight over their inheritance, and none of them gets too much in the end. I laughed and told her I would keep my fingers crossed.

Elizabeth was glad to see me again. I excused myself, and told her about my fateful voyage on Titanic. She seemed to understand.

"You and Cal seem so happy together, it never occurred to me that either one of you could have had other lovers before each other," she said. I laughed. "I'm glad to hear about the baby, though. Aren't children wonderful? They just bring so much joy to the world. Three children! My God, Margaret!"

In other women, this frankness would have seemed shocking to me, but this was precisely what I loved in Elizabeth. She had the same fiery nature as my dear sister, and she inspired me to be, in turn, fiery and rebellious. Though I kept myself in check because of my wifely and motherly duties, I still managed to be more talkative at home as well as with company. People marveled at how much I had changed. Most of them had known me as quiet Mrs. Hockley, whom everyone loved because of her diplomatic attitude and her calm exterior. But now they loved me even more because of my spirit.

"Cal's extremely happy. And I thought he couldn't be any prouder than he was about James. You should have seen him!" We both laughed.

"I might get married soon," Elizabeth said. "To who, I don't know. But Father is telling me that I'll be an old maid soon, and I should want to find a husband before I'm too old to interest anyone. Besides, I'd want a husband so that I can inherit my share of Father's estate."

I laughed. Though I loved Elizabeth, she could be practical to the point of coldness sometimes.

"Take your time, though. We can't all be as lucky as I was," I told her. She giggled, in such a way as I had not been able to do since I lost James.

It was a girl, just as Mother had hoped. Cal and I both decided to name her Rose Emmanuelle, and we made a great ceremony of inviting everyone we knew to see her. Mother was pleased with the child, exclaiming over her beauty, and especially her bright blue eyes and flaming red hair.

Rose was a fiery child, who cried little but was often very stubborn, insisting on being fed only at specific times and playing only when she felt like it. The rest of the time she slept, and I made a point of giving her a room all to herself, away from the room that Caledon and James shared. She was by far my favorite child, since she was the only girl, and I pampered her, though I tried not to show it. I was sure that I would see great things from her one day.


End file.
